All the Leaves are Flowers
by whatifellinlovewith
Summary: A series of fall themed, canon compliant one-shots. All in the same universe, but not chronological.
1. autumn leaves

_**1\. autumn leaves – future**_

* * *

"Mama, wook!"

She does, dragging her eyes from the wisps of brown hair atop her daughter's head to where her son is standing knee-deep in a pile of orange leaves.

"Yeah, baby?"

He grins, that toothy smile she loves so much. "Da weaves falled down!" he says, bright and happy.

It makes her smile widen and tug at her cheeks as her heart swells with irrational, unconditional love for the little boy so fascinated by the simplest of things.

Brown haired, blue eyed and finding joy in everything, so much like his father.

"They did," she says. "They do this every year."

His eyes go wide, mouth forming an O. "Dey do?" he asks, voice laced with wonder.

"They do," she chuckles.

His eyes stay wide as he bends down and clumsily reaches for the first leaf he can find. It's an orange one, the edges broken, but he doesn't care.

"Wha do wif falled weaves?" he asks, curious eyes tracing the leaf's edges, his brows furrowing.

This part, he gets from her.

"You can do a lot of things with the leaves," she answers. "I'm sure daddy could show you a bunch."

"I could show him a bunch of what?"

She turns around to find Castle bounding down the path, an easy smile on his face and a bounce to his step. He drops onto the bench next to her and reaches over to run his hand over the top of their daughter's head.

"She asleep?" he asks.

"She's not crying, is she?"

He chuckles softly before turning to where their little boy is still standing in the leaves. "So, what am I showing the little man?" he asks.

"Oh," she says, "Ethan was wondering what we do with the fallen leaves."

Castle smiles, eyes going wide with the same excitement she sees in their son as he turns to face Ethan. "Is that right? You wanna know what to do with the leaves, little man?"

Ethan looks up from the pile he's standing in. "Daddy? Wha' you do here?"

Castle stands up, arms already extended as he crosses the path. He scoops their son out of the leaves, crushing the little boy against his chest as he spins in a circle. "Well, I came to see you, silly."

"Me?"

He laughs. "Well, and your mommy and Tay. Is that okay with you?" asks Castle.

Ethan laughs and squeals as his daddy tickles him, slowly letting him fall back to the ground. "Yeah, daddy. Is otay. Is otay!" he says, over and over again until his words dissolve into incoherent giggles.

"Good," says Castle. "Because that means I can teach you what to do with the leaves."

"Yay! Daddy, 'owe me. 'Owe me, daddy!"

She laughs softly, watching as Castle lifts Ethan back onto his feet, and proceeds to explain what a leaf pile is. Ethan tries to help make one on the grass, imitating his father as he scoops up armfuls of leaves, only to drop most of them.

Castle ends up making a huge pile, compared to the original.

Ethan turns to her, eyes wide. "Daddy mate i' big!" he says, motioning to the leaf pile that's almost as tall as he is.

"He did," she chuckles. "Your daddy likes to go all out."

Her little boy nods, head bobbing happily, and turns to his father, babbling something she can't quite understand. Castle, however, grabs his hand, pulls him a few feet from the leaf pile.

"You gotta run and jump into the leaves, little man," she hears her husband say.

And Ethan does exactly that, running forward on chubby legs, his jeans catching the heels of his shoes. He stops right before the leaf pile, and jumps forward slightly, landing in the edge of the pile.

Still, he squeals and giggles, screaming "Again! Again, daddy!" over and over.

She snaps a picture of his smile after he jumps in the second time, as Castle grabs handfuls of leaves and lets them flutter down around their little boy.

She watches for as long as she can, until she knows baby's naptime should already be over, before interrupting with a slightly heavy heart.

She could watch Castle and Ethan play in the leaves for hours, but Taylor's bound to wake up soon.

"Guys, I think we should get going. I don't want the baby to get cold."

Ethan looks up at her from where he's lying in the leaf pile. "Taytay 'old?"

"Yeah, I think so, buddy," she says. "I'm sorry."

Castle is already standing straight, lifting Ethan from the leaf pile. "Don't be sorry, Kate. We gotta look out for our girl," he says. "Ethan gets it, right buddy?"

Her little boy nods. "Taytay gots to be hot," he says, that proud big brother smile on his face.

And, man, she thought she couldn't love him any more than she did this morning.

Castle leans down, sets Ethan on the ground, whispering in his ear. Their little boy's face lights up, and he runs around picking leaves up off the ground before running back to his daddy. Castle scoops him back into his arms before joining her on the path.

"Whatcha got there, baby?" she asks.

He holds out a handful of leaves, stems clutched in his palm like one would hold a bouquet. "Weaves, mama!"

"I see," she smiles. "What are you going to do with the leaves?"

He grins back at her, that same toothy smile from earlier. "Daddy say we gots to 'eeps weaves an' pu' dem in boocts."

"Oh? That sounds like a really good idea," she says.

Looks down, suddenly, at wear Taylor is nestled against her chest. "Taytay no gots a weaves?" he asks. And, oh, his voice is suddenly that pouty, caring one he uses when the baby cries.

"Tay's too young for leaves, Ethan, love."

"No," he says. "Taytay need a weaves. Mama give Taytay one my weaves?"

Her heart melts. Actually, physically melts. He is such a good big brother.

"Okay. Which leaf do you want to give to Taylor?"

He picks one, a red one, and hands it to her. "Taytay gots dis one, mama."

She takes it from him and gently tucks the stem under Taylor's headband. The baby doesn't stir, doesn't move, just keeps sleeping, breathing softly against her chest.

"Look, mama!" says Ethan. "Taytay wikes her weaves!"

She leans over, presses a kiss to her little boy's head, running her hand over her baby girl's back.

"I love you," she whispers, and pulls away to see mirror smiles looking back at her.

"Wove you, too, mama."

* * *

 **You can find the list of prompts I'm using for this story here: "http" : / / whatifellinlovewith . tumblr . "Com" / post** **/ 131184543808 / fallhalloween-prompts**


	2. pumpkin carving

_**2\. pumpkin carving – season 5 (shortly after 5x05)**_

* * *

It's a knock on her door that has her setting down her book and dragging herself off the couch. Still, he blanket she had been covered in stays wrapped around her shoulders, heavy, warm and comforting.

Fall has swept over New York; the trees in Central Park turnbrilliant shades of yellow, orange and red, the air is crisp whenever you walk out a door. It's the kind of weather for sweatpants and books and heavy wool blankets.

And, apparently, also for unexpected visits on your day off.

She opens the door to find Castle standing there, and though his presence is anything but shocking, the fact that he's holding two large, bright orange pumpkins is.

"Uh… Hi?"

"Hi," he returns, stepping into her apartment with a bounce in his step and a smile on his face. "I brought pumpkins."

She laughs, the door swinging closed behind her. "I can see that," she says. "And, uh, why did you bring pumpkins?"

"So we can carve them," he answers, like it's the most obvious thing in the world and, well, in retrospect it probably was.

Why else would Castle come bearing pumpkins only a few days before Halloween?

"Right," she mumbles. "I haven't carved a pumpkin in…years."

He turns to her at that, hands now free. "Since…?"

She nods. "Yeah. Mom was always bigger on Holidays than my dad was. A lot of our little traditions…fell away after she died."

"Oh," he breathes. "Then we don't have to…"

"No," she says, stepping towards him and the counter. "We don't _have_ to. But I kinda want to."

He smiles, a small, hopeful upturn of his lips. "You do?"

"Yeah. And it would make you happy, right?"

"Would it…?" he says. "Of course it would, Kate. But I don't want you doing this just for me."

"I'm not. I'm being really selfish."

His brows furrow. "You are?"

"Yeah," she says, reaching up to caress his jaw with her palm. "Because I haven't seen you smile like this in days, and I really like seeing you smile."

He does smile, letting out a puff of laughter as his hand settles over hers. "Look at you," he says, "turning all sappy."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah, I know," she mumbles. "Now hand me the chef's knife."

He laughs, but hands it to her all the same, his fingers brushing against hers as she takes the handle and presses the tip of the blade against the top of the first pumpkin.

It doesn't take much to have the first slice completed.

"So are we doing both together or, like, a competition?" she asks.

"It's up to you," he shrugs.

She grins. "Well then, I'm glad I got the bigger knife."

She cuts the stem off first, watching as he does the same shortly after. The scent of fresh pumpkin is already wafting through the apartment when he sets the top of his aside.

"We'll need a bowl for the pumpkin…guts," she says.

He laughs, and easily finds one of the mixing bowls she rarely uses, setting it between them.

He watches her as she reaches into the pumpkin, pulling out a handful of its stringy, slimy insides and dropping them into the bowl with a plop.

He's still staring.

"Okay, even you can't find this sexy," she says, turning to him, her clean hand landing on her hip.

"I was thinking more along the lines of cute." He shrugs. "But sexy works too."

" _Castle._ "

"What?" he asks. "It's you. You can make anything sexy."

She rolls her eyes. "It's _pumpkin guts,_ Castle, nobody can make that sexy, and only a child can make it cute."

His eyes glint with mischief, and before she can stop him, he reaches into his pumpkin and pulls just a string from the inside. Carefully, he places it on her shoulder.

"I don't know, Beckett." He shrugs. "You still look cute to me."

She sighs, reaches over to grab some on her own pumpkin's insides. She rests the small glob on his shoulder. "And you still look annoying to me."

He's still smiling. "The scowl only makes you cuter, you know."

She rolls her eyes. "Castle, carve your pumpkin."

He does, and yet another string of pumpkin guts ends up on both her shoulders in the process. She gets him back by throwing a handful at the side of his head.

He struggles a bit with the smaller knife while she effortly cuts out the eyes of her jack-o'-lantern, along with the simple, triangular nose.

And yet, somehow, he ends up setting his knife down just as she does the same with hers.

She glances at his pumpkin, or, well, at the finished face on the front of it. "Really, Castle?"

"What?" he asks. "I totally won."

"What? No you didn't. My pumpkin is so much better than yours,"

"Oh, come on, Beckett, you made the most traditional jack-o'-lantern I've ever seen," he says, motioning her pumpkin.

Well, it _is_ the traditional jack-o'-lantern with triangles for eyes and its nose and a smile of gapped teeth. But still…

"Yours isn't even the slightest bit scary," she argues.

He shrugs. "No one said it had to be scary."

"It's Halloween, Castle. Of course it's supposed to be scary."

"Exactly," he says.

 _Wait. What?_

He reaches out and wraps his arm around her, tugging her shoulder against his. "It's our first Halloween together, Kate."

She chuckles. "And now who's the sap."

"I think I've always been the sap," he says, "which is why nobody really points it out when I'm sappy."

"True," she agrees. "That still doesn't mean we should be celebrating that it's our first _Halloween_ together. I mean, Christmas, I get, but not this."

He dusts a kiss to the top of her head. "You want to celebrate our first Christmas together?"

"I'm just saying that it makes more sense to celebrate than Halloween," she mutters.

"Well, I want to celebrate our first Christmas together. I already got you your gift."

She pulls away, just slightly. "What?"

"Nothing," he answers. "Let's focus on Halloween first. Look at our pumpkins."

She turns to do just that, to see the two orange jack-o'-lanterns sitting side by side.

"I think we did a pretty good job," he says.

"I thought mine was too traditional for you," she counters, bumping her shoulder against his.

"And here I thought mine was too sappy for you."

"It is," she says with a nod. "I mean, really, Castle, you gave the thing hearts for eyes."

* * *

 **Big thanks goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter (and the last one, in which I sadly and stupidly forgot to mention her. Sorry.)**


	3. corn maze

_**3\. corn maze – season 6 (shortly after 6x04)**_

* * *

"I can't believe you got us lost in the corn maze," she groans, kicking the wall in front of her.

"Hey! You're the one who asked me which way we should go," he argues. "If you had a better idea, we could have gone your way."

She rolls her eyes, turning away from the dead end in front of her to face him instead. "I only asked you because you've been bugging me about going to a corn maze since I got back to the city, and this seemed like the best opportunity to get you off my back,"

He takes a step closer to her, lips twisting into a smirk. "Detective Beckett, first week back on the job and you're already using it to deal with your personal problems?"

He's teasing. She knows that.

She still gets defensive.

"I am _not,_ " she says. "We would have had to come to this corn maze no matter what."

He steps closer, again, reaching up to curl his palms around two shoots of corn behind her. "I see. But you still asked me which way we should go, and therefore we got lost," he whispers.

When did she get this close to the wall?

"Alexis said you're an expert at these things. I figured you could get us to the crime scene without getting us lost in the process," she shrugs.

He's even closer now, his hand falling to her hips. Her arms loop around his neck on instinct, drawing him closer and he grins, leaning in to dusk a kiss to the high of her cheekbone.

"What if I wanted us to get lost?"

It rumbles against her chest, as his warm breath washes over her ear and his teeth nip at her skin, but she pushes him away.

"Castle!"

He's still smiling, his face just inches from hers and she shoves at his chest again.

"I can't believe you got us lost on purpose. I _just_ got my job back and you're…"

His hand settles on her arm, pulling her closer again and _dammit_ why is her fiance so irresistible when he gives her that crooked smile?

"It's not my fault our morning was interrupted by your phone." He shrugs. "I just wanted to give us a couple minutes and getting lost in a corn maze seemed like a good excuse."

She should stop this. She should pull away and go back to trying to find her way out of here.

But she leans forward instead, fingers combing through the hairs at his nape.

"And what do you plan to accomplish, now that we have a few minutes?" she asks.

His head dips, lips catching hers for a split second. "This would be a good place to start," he murmurs.

And then his hands on her hips are tugging her against him, her fingers knotting in his hair as his lips slide over her mouth, his tongue finding hers.

They really shouldn't.

Except he's still holding her close, wedging his thigh between her legs as his lips find her neck, teeth nipping at her pulse point just like they were this morning before…

" _Castle._ "

He laughs. "What?"

"I– _We_ are not having sex in the corn maze," she manages, just as his hands slip under the hem of her shirt.

She feels his pout against her shoulder. "Why not?" he whines.

Rolling her eyes, she pushes him away. "Because we are not insatiable teenagers," she tells him.

"No. We're insatiable adults," he says, grinning.

She shakes her head. "Castle, we can keep our hands to ourselves at work."

He sighs dramatically, shoulders sagging. "But I have a super sexy detective for a fiancee," he whines, drawing a soft laugh from her chest. "Plus, we still have to make up for all the time we spent apart while you were in D.C."

"Which we can do at the loft," she says.

"No, we can't, Kate. It's full of redheads and _Pi,_ and you know you don't want Pi walking in on us," he counters.

Well, that mental image just erased all lingering possibility of anything happening now.

"Fine," she concedes. "We can't really do it at the loft right now, but we _can_ go to my old place for the night."

"Okay," he finally agrees.

She smiles, brushing past him as she steps forward, out of the dead end they'd ended up in, but he catches her arm before she can walk away..

She turns back to him, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "What now, Castle?"

He pulls her close, kisses her hard, and _dammit,_ she's letting herself sink into him, letting herself get lost in his kiss and the warmth of his hands on her cheeks.

They _really_ should stop, but…

"Beckett?"

She shoves him away smoothing down her jacket as she forces herself to avoid looking at his grin. "Espo?" she shouts back, running her fingers through her hair.

"Yo, Beckett. What'd you guys do, get lost or something?"

She nods, even though Espo can't see her. "Yeah. Castle sent us down a wrong turn and it just spiraled from there," she answers.

"So the police tape was too hard to follow?" shouts Espo, laughter ringing in his voice and he was _not_ supposed to mention that minor detail to Castle.

Because now her fiance is stepping up behind her, plucking at the hem of her jacket.

"There was police tape?" he asks, sounding just as amused as Esposito.

She could shoot them both and hide the bodies, right?

"There was police tape, and yet you still asked me which way I wanted to go," he continues.

She jabs her elbow into his side. "Shut up," she hisses.

But he's still laughing, following her as she tries to find her way back to the main route. "How can you expect me to shut up when I find out something like that?" he asks.

"Why is it such a big deal? I was trying to indulge your desire to go to a corn maze with me, remember?"

"Oh, no," he counters. "You _knew_ I was going to get us lost and you wanted to be able to blame me, so you _let_ me get us lost."

"That is _not_ what happened," she huffs.

"Oh, but it is, Beckett, and you _know_ it," he says.

She turns on her heel, reaching out to settle her hands on his shoulders. "Fine. You're right. I'm…frustrated that after finally coming home we can't just be _together,_ " she admits. "So, yes, I let you get us lost in the corn maze, and yes, we're spending tonight and my old place, and I know _exactly_ what I'm going to do to you tonight."

And then she turns again, making her way back to the main path, feeling his eyes locked firmly on the sway of her hips.

* * *

 **Huge thank you to Marielyfan for reading over this.**


	4. apple cider

_**4\. apple cider - future**_

* * *

" _Castle,_ we're out of pie," she whines.

She turns to look at him, resting her hand pointedly on her round belly. She pushes her lower lip out into a pout and widens her eyes in that way she knows he can't resist.

He turns back to her, too, brows furrowed. "Alrea—"

She glares, and he stops in his tracks, that smile he gets when he's fighting to stay on her good side curling at the corners of his lips.

"You're right," he says and she watches as he pushes himself up off the couch, coming towards her in the kitchen. "I only bought two and I should have bought more. I'll run to the store and get more later?"

"But babe, the baby wants apples _now_."

He chuckles, just loud enough for her to hear and she slaps at his chest half-heartedly. And then she's pressed against him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand settling on the baby bump that he calls adorable and she calls _huge._

She does like it when he rubs a circle against her skin, so gentle over their son, though.

"Have you tried the juice?" he asks, the words a whisper against her hair.

Crinkling her nose, she nods. "It's good but…"

"Not enough?"

"I think baby likes cinnamon with his apples," she mumbles. "But now we're out of pie."

He squeezes her shoulder gently, dusting a kiss to the top of her head. "How about I make you and baby something else with apples and cinnamon, to tide you over until we get more pie?" he offers.

Oh. That sounds good.

"Like what?" she asks.

He smiles, laughing against her head. "You wait while I get it ready. And if it's not good enough, I'll go out and get you more pie right away."

She smiles, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Castle."

Trailing his hand down her spine, he rubs a circle against the base of her back before letting her go, "You go get comfortable, finish today's episode of Temptation Lane," he tells her. "I'll bring it to you when it's ready."

She listens, returning to the living room to drop onto the couch. She sinks into the cushions and draws her feet up next to her as she reaches for the remote. Her free hand settles over her belly as she pulls up the DVR menu and starts the episode.

Since spending some time off work during her first trimester, she's gotten back into the show, watching the daily episodes curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over her, her resting hand on her belly. Castle usually watches with her, laughing at the horrible storytelling, enraptured by fictional romance.

She sinks deeper into the cushions, running her hand over her baby bump. Whatever Castle's making her is starting to smell _good,_ the sweetness of apples and the undertone of cinnamon and nutmeg that their little boy loves so much.

Thank goodness the baby decided to give her _this_ craving in the fall.

"Castle? Is it almost ready?" she calls.

She hears him laugh from the kitchen. "Does it smell good?" he calls back.

She hums her response. "Smells great," she says.

There's noise from the other room, glass being set on the countertop, metal hitting metal and then silence for a second before she hears his footsteps.

She turns towards him again, finds him smiling down at her, a mug in each hand.

"Apple cider sound okay, Beckett and baby?"

Her mouth is practically watering as she nods, reaching for the mug like a child. Her hands wrap around it, fingers warmed by the hot, amber liquid as she brings the rim to her lips, taking a careful sip.

The tangy sweetness of the apple washes over her tongue, the warm undertone of cinnamon drawing a soft moan from her throat as her eyes slide closed. Bringing the cup back down, she licks at her lips,

He's smiling down at her, his own cup still in his hand, full. "Good?" he asks.

" _So_ good, babe," she answers. "You actually made cider for me and the baby?"

He shrugs. "I used to make it for Alexis when she was little. It's not hard, and I figured it would soothe your apple cinnamon craving," he says.

Her heart flutters, and she reaches for him with one hand, She tugs him down so he's sitting next to her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

"The baby likes the cider, too," she whispers to him before taking another sip.

Castle reaches over, splays his hand over her round belly. "Yeah?" he asks.

She nods, rests her palm on his hand, fingers sliding into the gaps between his.

"He's moving around in there?" he asks.

"Yeah," she breathes. "A lot, actually."

She feels him sigh as he brushes a kiss to the top of her head. "I can't wait to feel him," he mumbles.

"I know," she says. "Soon, babe. He's getting stronger."

He smiles against the crown of her head. "I know." He squeezes her shoulder, turning back to the TV. "So? Is she telling him about the affair?"

She scoffs. "Have you ever seen a soap opera?"

He rests his head on hers, and she can feel him smile as she explains why there is _no_ way the affair will be spoken of in today's episode. She rambles, laughing, their hands still on her stomach.

The cup of cider is done by the time the end credits roll, the preview for tomorrow's episode flashing across the screen.

Castle comes back to sit with her, handing her the mug he filled again. She takes a sip, eyes falling closed and then opening again.

She sees the moment he realizes what she's going to ask, when her lips curl into the slightest of grins.

She pats his thigh gently. "Your cider is great, babe."

He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "But?"

"But, you know what it would be _really_ great with?"

He squeezes her shoulder again. "Pie?" he suggests, even though he already knows the answer.

"Exactly."

He grins, running his hand over her head to curl around her nape, and presses a soft, loving kiss to her forehead.

"Okay, honey. I'll be back soon, with _pie._ "

She smiles as she watches him go, still sipping on her apple cider.

* * *

 **Huge thank you to Marielyfan for reading this over.**


	5. blustery days

_**5\. blustery days - future**_

* * *

She steps outside, walks down the steps into the grassy backyard, Ethan's hand wrapped in hers.

Behind them, Castle is carrying Taylor and a bag of random things he decided would look great in the pictures, And behind _them_ is the photographer they hired, Stacey, who has her camera and tripod.

"So, where do you guys want to do this?" asks Stacey.

"In the grass," she answers immediately. "We did them on the beach with Taylor, and there is no way I'm walking down there, eight months pregnant, in this weather."

She can't see him, but she can picture the apologetic smile Castle's probably offering Stacey, the one he flashes at most people when her pregnancy hormones make her moody and stubborn.

Most of the time, it bugs her, but today, she really doesn't care.

"Yeah," he says. "The grass will be good. Like she said, we did the beach with this little one, and Ethan's were done at this little park back in the city. This will be different."

"I don't see why we have to do these, anyway," she huffs. "We already have two sets of maternity pictures, and it's not like me or my belly look _that_ different from last time."

He steps forward so he's standing next to her, Taylor still sitting happily in his arms. "Well, this time we get to include our little princess," he says. "along with our little man." With his free hand, he reaches out, splays his palm across her belly over the fabric of her shirt. "This is our last baby, Kate. We need pictures. And you know you love the pictures in the end.."

She sighs in defeat, her shoulders sagging as Ethan leads her deeper into the grassy backyard.

Admittedly, she _does_ love the pictures, would never admit how many times she's stared at them, traced the contours of her silhouette and wished, somewhere deep down, that this _wasn't_ her last pregnancy.

But it will be. And she knows he's right, as much as she hates to admit it. She _will_ want the pictures in the long run, even though today she feels huge and bloated and exhausted because she barely slept last night.

"Fine," she says. "But I don't want to be doing this for hours. Baby wants food…and a nap."

"We will be finished as soon as possible, Mrs. Castle," promises Stacey from behind them. "Just let me set up my camera and we can get started."

They are start with the pictures with the kids. There's one where Ethan is pressing a kiss to the underside of her belly, and one where Taylor can't reach, so she rests her hand on the bump instead. And then there's one where she's sitting on the ground, Ethan sitting next to her, reading his favorite book, _Green Eggs and Ham,_ to the baby. And it's twin where Taylor is sitting in front of her along with a pile of blocks that clearly reads _baby._

They take the family pictures next, the first one being on where their four sets of hands are resting on her belly. The second is one of just the four of them, Taylor perched on her side, a little leg resting over her belly, and Ethan on Castle's shoulders, a wide, toothy grin spread across his face.

She might have that one framed, if they don't get a better one when they take the newborn pictures Castle is inevitably going to insist upon.

After they're done taking pictures, Castle lets the kids play in the grass, encouraging them to run around and have fun as Stacey asks which pictures they want of the two of them.

There's not many—the one where he's kissing her belly, where he's pressing his cheek against it, where he's holding her from behind, his hands entwined with hers. And then there's the one he planned out, another one she might just have framed.

He lays scrabble tiles across her belly, spells out the word _extraordinary,_ and leans it to press a soft kiss to her lips.

Stacey shows her the shots. They're _beautiful._

But then Castle's gone, leaving her to stand alone in a field with her pregnant belly huge in front of her and _this_ is the part she usually hates.

It always seems so awkward, standing around with her hands on her belly as someone takes pictures of her, even though Castle and _all_ her friends have pointed out that, when pregnant, she almost always has a hand on her belly anyway.

It doesn't matter. She still hates taking these pictures.

Per Stacey's request, though, she sits on the ground, crossing her legs in front of her, and cradles her baby bump in her hand. The baby's moving now, kicking away, and it draws a smile to her face.

The flash goes off, and she looks up to see both Stacey and Castle offering her a thumbs up.

Then Castle's running over to her, and she can't help but notice the piece of fabric in his hand. It's a onesie, white with a cartoon elephant printed on the front. In the elephant's trunk is the string to a heart-shaped balloon. The onesie is in her maternity pictures from her pregnancy with Ethan, and from her pregnancy with Taylor, and both her babies have worn it.

She should have known he was going to bring it with them for this.

He drapes it over her belly, smoothes out the wrinkles and presses a kiss to her forehead before leaving again.

The pictures Stacey takes look almost exactly like the ones she has from her first two pregnancies, and she hears Castle say something about framing the three together.

Apparently, they have a lot of pictures they want to have framed, and she's really not against it.

"Just a few more," Stacey promises, as Castle rushes over to help her to her feet.

So they take a few more, these ones of her standing with her hands on her belly, that dreamy smile everyone seems to have in their maternity pictures stretched across her face.

And just when she's starting to be completely over it, when she decides that they have enough pictures of her looking as big as a whale and staring down at her belly, the wind picks up.

Castle's face lights up. "Just a few more, sweetheart," he calls out. "You look beautiful in the wind."

She frowns, her arms falling to her sides. "But, _Castle,_ " she whines, just because she knows that _usually_ gets to him.

It doesn't this time.

All it does is make him smile. "I love you," he says, the words carried by the gust of wind that follows, that carries her hair with it and her face lights up.

Stacey snaps a picture.

It ends up being a beautiful picture. She's standing there, her hair blowing across her face, the corners of her mouth curled upwards into a smile that reaches her eyes.

It's the first picture Castle has framed and he places it carefully on his desk, between, in the middle of his office which is decorated with countless pictures of their family.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thanks goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter for me.**


	6. costumes

**6\. costumes - season 7**

* * *

"I can't believe you agreed to this," says Alexis.

She opens her eyes to find herself staring at her reflection, at the drape of black fabric over her body, the white over her chest, the apron around her waist.

Behind her, Alexis is adjusting her hair and pinning on her bonnet.

"Yeah," she says. "Neither can I."

Alexis chuckles. "When Dad first approached me about it, I figured you were definitely going to say no," she says. "And then you agreed and, well, here we are, a family of Pilgrims."

A smile curls at the corners of her mouth, her head dipping, "Yeah," she whispers. "Here we are."

With another soft laugh, Alexis slips the last pin into place and adjusts the bonnet on her head, making sure it's secure.

"At least it makes Dad happy," she says.

She lets out a laugh. "Yeah," she agrees. "I guess that's why I agreed. Besides, it could be worse than Pilgrims, right?"

"Definitely." With one final adjustment of her bonnet, Alexis steps away, her smile bright in the mirror. "There you go. Dad will love it, even though everyone else will probably laugh at us."

She rolls her eyes, stepping away from the mirror and turning towards her step-daughter.

"It's worth it, right? Giving the boys a little— _a lot_ —of ammo to use against me just to make your dad happy?"

Alexis shrugs. "Either way, it's a little late to change your mind now," she says. "Ryan, Jenny, Esposito and Lanie should be here in, like, ten minutes and there's a _lot_ of pins holding your hair up under that bonnet."

"No, I know," she says. "It's not that I was going to back up. I just…kind of feel like I've been overly…giddy since we got married."

"Well, I think you earned it," says Alexis. "Both you and dad. So, you're a little giddy? So is he. You guys earned it, Kate. And nobody knows that more than your friends. They might tease you, but they're definitely happy for you. We all are."

A smile stretches across her face as she reaches forward to gently tug a long strand of orange hair from beneath Alexis' collar.

"Thank you," she says, her voice a whisper.

Alexis smiles. "No problem. It's the truth," she says. "But, uh, dad has been waiting to show you his Pilgrim costume since we bought it, so maybe you should go out and see him before the guests get here."

She nods, her hand falling from Alexis' shoulder. She offers her step-daughter one last smile before walking by, heading for the door.

Sure enough, Castle is standing right there, in the middle of the living room, smiling at her.

The black shirt stretches across his chest and shoulders, the sleeves ending with white cuffs just before his wrists. A white collar, much like her own, is wrapped around his neck, the fabric falling over his pecs. And the leather belt is secured around his waist, with that _huge_ buckle,

The pants end halfway down his calves, black cutting off to the white fabric of his socks. Her eyes drift down, to the shoes with heels that make her laugh, the buckle on the top of his foot matching the one on his belt.

He's holding his hat in his hand and has the rim of it pressed against his thigh.

Smiling, she steps forward, reaching down for his hand. Her fingers curl around the rim of his hat, thumb tracing the cool metal of the buckle.

"Babe, if I have to wear the bonnet, you have to wear the hat," she says.

He grins, lifting his hand to place the hat on his head, adjusting it so it's perfectly straight.

She reaches forward to wrap her arms around his neck. "There you go," she whispers. "That's much better."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

Nodding, she knots her fingers in the curls at his nape. "Yeah. It's surprisingly…handsome."

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Castle," he says, leaning down to press his lips to her forehead. "You look absolutely beautiful in your costume."

She grins, smudges it against his lips. "And here I thought you preferred me in _less_ clothing, not more, _Mr._ Castle."

He shrugs. "Depends on the situation, on the outfit. Like your uniform from when you were an officer, that's _hot._ But that bikini you'll only wear when we're alone in the Hamptons, that's also so very _sexy_ ," he explains.

"And, what, a Pilgrim wife in thick layers of black fabric, a bonnet and an apron does it for you, too?" she teases. Her hand trails down his neck, and she shoves at his shoulder with her palm. "Is this some kind of possessive, alpha male thing?"

"No," he answers instantly. He catches her hand in his and dusks a kiss to her knuckles before leaning down softly to press his lips to hers. "It's appreciation of my wife's beauty, no matter what she's wearing."

He mumbles it, his lips brushing over hers with every word and she pushes herself onto her toes to steal another kiss.

"Now _that_ is sappy."

It's Alexis, standing in the doorway between the living room and the master bedroom, leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed over her chest.

Her cheeks burn pink, and she hides her blush in the crook of his shoulder as his arms wrap around her back.

"When have you known me _not_ to be a sap when it comes to Beckett, oh daughter of mine?" asks Castle.

"Oh, I'm not surprised by you, father of mine," says Alexis. "It's more Kate, and the fact that she didn't roll her eyes and push you away for that comment."

She draws her head from his shoulder, turns to press her cheek against his chest. The patter of his heart is steady in her ear as he trails his fingertips up her spine.

"Oh, Kate loves being called beautiful, she just hides it behind eye rolls and shoves," he says.

She smiles, nodding her head ever so slightly. The white fabric of his collar. shifting beneath her cheek. "And we _are_ celebrating Thanksgiving today," she adds. "So I figured I should accept the compliment, for once."

Alexis chuckles, stepping towards them, "Oh, now you're hiding behind holidays? What happened to being giddy newlyweds?"

The burning in her cheeks intensifies as she feels Castle smile.

She dressed up in western gear for this man. She spent her honeymoon on a ranch for this man. And now she's dressed up as a Pilgrim for this man.

And none of that is something she can blame on any holidays.

So she shrugs, still wrapped in his arms. "I can't let us take the blame for everything," she says. "And Thanksgiving seemed like the logical culprit in this situation."

Alexis laughs again, rolling her eyes as she steps past them. She doesn't say another word. She doesn't need to.

It's obvious. They're sappy, giddy newlyweds. And they're a family dressed as Pilgrims.

* * *

 **Huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading this over, and to ipreferwestside for the idea.**


	7. halloween candy

**7\. Halloween candy - season 2**

* * *

Paperwork is horrible. Boring.

Her pen glides across the page, the signature staining the white paper on each and every designated line, the pile of filled in files growing on the corner of her desk.

She lifts her head, glances at the two piles sitting before her. Finally, the one of completed work is taller than the one of work to do, and her lips curl into a small smile as she reaches forward to grab the next form.

She should be done soon enough.

Plus, Castle isn't here to distract her.

Just as she presses the tip of her pen to the page, there's a ding from behind her, the faint sound of the elevator doors opening that can only be heard on days like today, days when the precinct is quiet and caseload is low.

She hears the shuffling of footsteps before she can turn around, recognizes the heavy steps, the quick rhythm of them.

Her shoulders sag, her stomach sinking.

 _Castle._

She _really_ needs to learn to stop speaking—and apparently thinking—too soon.

Dropping her pen onto the surface of her desk, she spins, her heel pressing hard against the floor as her arms cross over her chest. She leans back, feeling her chair shift with her,

"What are you doing here, Castle?" she asks. "I already told you I'd call you if we catch a case."

He smiles, wide and happy and oh so very him. Without saying a word, he walks over and comes to stop in front of her desk.

It's only now that she realizes his hand is hidden behind his back.

That's never a good sign.

"Good morning, detective," he greets, chipper as always.

She rolls her eyes. "Cut the crap, Castle, and tell me what you're hiding."

Pressing a hand against his chest, he gasps. His eyes go wide, but his lips are still curled upwards into a smile. "Beckett, I am not _hiding_ anything," he says. "I am merely trying to surprise you, get you into the holiday spirit."

"Halloween is not a holiday."

He rolls his eyes, shoulders sagging and he holds his hand out casually. "Well, holiday or not, you still get a present," he tells her. "Go ahead. Open it."

Suppressing yet another eyeroll, she reaches forward, wraps her hand around the _present._ It's a small bag with a cartoon witch printed on the front. There's an orange twist tie holding it closed, wrapped firmly around the top of the almost bursting plastic bag.

She has no doubt about what the bag contains, knows him well enough to expect the childlike antics.

With the gift sitting in one hand, the other reaches for the tie, twists it until it comes undone and falls into her palm. He watches as she sets it on her desk; she can feel his gaze following her hand.

Her fingers gently pluck at the plastic, tugging the top open to reveal a bag full of tiny chocolate bars.

Tilting her head so it's resting against the back of her chair, her eyes slide back up at meet his. "Really, Castle?" she asks. "You make a big deal out of coming here when we have no case, you interrupt a bullpen full of detectives to give me _chocolate_?"

He shrugs. "Everyone needs chocolate."

"And you had to bring it to me today because?" Her fingers pluck at the plastic again, widening the opening until she can see the logos and _oh_ that one's her favorite.

He doesn't need to know that.

Shrugging once again, he drops into his chair at the end of her desk. "Well, I was at the store and bought one of those huge boxes of tiny chocolate bars–"

"Halloween isn't for like a month."

"So?" he asks, brows raised. "Did you not hear? _Huge_ boxes of tiny chocolate bars. Besides, I give out full size chocolate bars for halloween,"

 _Figures._

"Anyway," he says, "I was at the store and bought a huge box of tiny chocolate bars, and then realized I was in the neighborhood. I figured you wouldn't get any candy for yourself, so decided to bring you some,"

She fights the smile threatening to spread across her face, her teeth catching her lip for half a second. "In a goodie bag?"

"To celebrate the season," he offers.

She rolls her eyes, spinning her chair back towards her desk. She drops the candy bag onto the wooden surface and reaches for her pen instead.

The urge to smile is still there, ever-present in that way she hates, in that way only he can ever induce.

He's stupidly sweet sometimes, in a childish way she definitely hates.

"You're not going to have one?" he asks.

She looks back up at him, her pen still perched in her hand. "I have paperwork to do," she says.

"And you can't spare two seconds to eat one tiny chocolate bar?" he asks. "Come on, I put like ten different kinds in there, at least one has to be your favorite."

She sighs. "If I eat one, will you stop bugging me about it?"

He grins, nodding excitedly.

She rolls her eyes, but reaches forward, picking one of the chocolate bars off the top. She tugs the wrapper off, dropping it into the garbage can near her feet before popping the candy into her mouth.

Oh, it's good, the chocolate melting on her tongue, mixing with sweet caramel.

He's smiling at her, leaning forward in his seat, when she swallows, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"So?" he asks.

She lets herself smile now as she gets ready to start working again. "Thank you, Castle," she says. "That was…sweet."

He grins. "Makes you want me, doesn't it?"

She smirks, turning to face him. "I was talking about the chocolate, Castle," she tells him. "The _chocolate_ was sweet."

He sighs, sinks back in his chair, his eyes falling to her desk. "Just for that," he says, "I'm not going to help you with your paperwork."

She scoffs, pressing her pen to the page.

She doesn't reach for another chocolate bar until after he gets bored and leaves.

* * *

 **Huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter for me.**


	8. costume party

**8\. costume party - season 7 (set immediately after chapter 6)**

* * *

The knock on the door has her dropping the casserole onto the counter and running to answer, her skirt swinging back and forth around her ankles. She heads for the door, her hand wrapping around the knob, and pulls it open to reveal Esposito and Lanie standing on the other side.

The scoff comes instantly, and as expected as it was, it has her cheeks burning pink.

"Yo, you guys did the costume thing again?" asks Espo. "And here I thought the cowboy costumes on your honeymoon were enough for you."

She rolls her eyes, ignoring the flush that must reach the tips of her ears by now. "This was _all_ Castle's idea," she tells him.

"Yeah," he says, "but you went along with it."

Lanie reaches over, slaps him on the chest. "Shut up, Javi," she says. "They're newlyweds, give them a break."

Espo's shoulders sag as he takes a step back and turns just enough to see–

She might be dressed a Pilgrim, but Ryan's costume has her slapping a hand over her mouth to trap her chuckle, her chest bubbling with laughter.

"Dude, a _turkey_?"

Ryan turns beet red, his head digging towards the floor as he adjusts the strap of the diaper bag on his shoulder. "It was, uh, Jenny's idea," he mumbles.

From behind him, Jenny scoffs, stepping past Ryan. "No it wasn't," she says. "You, Kevin, are the one who came home with that turkey costume, this pumpkin costume and a piece of red fabric for Sarah Grace."

Kate presses her hand more firmly against her mouth, muffling her chuckle with her fingers as Ryan's face reddens even more and Espo's face scrunches up in disgust.

"What? Really, bro?"

"Castle said costumes were encouraged!" defends Ryan, waving his arm past them.

At the call of his name, Castle comes running, appearing behind her, his hand curling around her waist. "I did wh– Whoa, when did you order Thanksgiving dinner for delivery?"

She slaps him playfully on the stomach, her head falling against his shoulder. "Be nice," she tells him. "You _are_ the one who told him to come in costume."

"Technically, I said costumes were not mandatory, but highly encouraged," he corrects, making her roll her eyes. "And I expected, you know, natives or Pilgrims, not a turkey dinner."

"See?" says Jenny, turning to Ryan. "I told you." And then she slips into the apartment, holding Sarah Grace's carseat in one hand. Castle reaches over and carefully takes the handle from her.

While Castle brings Sarah Grace into the living room, Kate ushers Lanie, Esposito, Ryan and Jenny into the apartment, closing the door behind them. She adjusts her apron around her waist before following them, staring at the dark brown fabric that covers Ryan's back.

Yeah, Pilgrims really aren't so bad.

Had Castle suggested they get dressed as _food,_ she might have skipped Thanksgiving dinner altogether.

She watches as Castle undoes the buckles of Sarah Grace's carseat, as he lifts the happy baby girl out of her carseat, adjusting her costume as he does.

"What is this little one supposed to be?" he asks softly.

Jenny lets out a laugh. "She's a cranberry, per Kevin's request."

"Well, she's the most adorable cranberry I've ever seen," says Castle.

And he's right. Sarah Grace _is_ adorable, all chubby cheeks and a toothy grin, surrounded by red fabric, puffed out in a ball around her tiny body.

Ryan might look like an idiot, but Sarah Grace is adorable, as always.

Kate walks over to them, wraps one arm around Castle's waist, letting her head fall to his shoulder. Her fingers slide under the leather of his belt, and she smiles against his bicep as she watches him play with the baby.

Funny how babies and Thanksgiving always seem to coincide.

He bounces Sarah Grace in his arm, reaching up to gently tap her nose, drawing an adorable baby laugh from her.

"Oh, so baby dressed as a cranberry is adorable, but my turkey costume will be laughed about for years," says Ryan.

She turns her head, pressing her cheek against Castle's shoulder so she's looking at the others. Jenny isn't even trying not to laugh anymore, and neither is Lanie, and Alexis is emerging from upstairs, eyes going wide immediately. Espo still looks disgusted, eyes still narrow.

"Dude, you're a grown man dressed like a turkey," he tells Ryan. "You had to have expected this."

"I thought Castle's costume would be worse than ours!"

Castle laughs, shaking his head. "I had to choose something both Beckett and Alexis would approve of," he tells everyone. "I didn't have a lot of options."

"He didn't," she confirms.

"Yeah, I know better than trying to get _Beckett_ dressed as food," he says. He looks down at her, smiles, and then back up at where Jenny is now running her hand up and down Ryan's back, probably trying to comfort him. "Although–"

She slaps him, again. "Don't even think about it."

"Oh, come on, Kate," he says. "You have to admit it's kind of cute."

She rolls her eyes.

"Not to mention more colorful than Pilgrims," he adds. "I mean, look at us. Aren't we boring, all in black and white when we could be in all the colors of fall."

"It's not going to happen, Castle." She sighs, reaching up to pluck at the maroon fabric of Sarah Grace's costume. "Besides, the look is not complete without the cranberry."

He looks up at their friends again, and she follows his gaze, finds their friends all watching them, Alexis lingering by the bottom of the stairs.

His daughter seems to see something in his eyes, because suddenly she's inviting everyone to sit down, announcing that she'll finish up the casserole. She goes to follow, but he snakes his arm around her waist, holds her back.

And then he leans back down, presses his lips to her temple and dusts his mouth to the shell of her ear. "Maybe next year we'll have our own little cranberry," he suggests. "And then we can dress up as Thanksgiving dinner."

She looks up at him, her eyes wide. "Next year? That's pretty soon, and I'm pretty sure it takes nine months to…grow a…cranberry," she whispers.

"True," he says. "But, once we do have a little cranberry, could we?"

Her mind flashes, the image clear. Her in Jenny's costume, him dressed as a turkey, Alexis opting out of the family costume that year. And their little cranberry, their _baby,_ with big blue eyes and messy brown hair, surrounded by a pillow of red fabric.

She blinks, and his grin comes into focus, wide and happy until he leans in and smudges it against her own smile.

It takes until he's pulling away for her to realize she actually agreed.

* * *

 **A huge thanks goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	9. pumpkin spice

**9\. pumpkin spice - season 3 (after Close Encounters of the Murderous Kind)**

* * *

He shows up at the crime scene just as she does, his cab pulling up and driving away. She leans against one of the brick buildings to wait, her arms crossed over her chest, her brows raised in expectation.

He comes towards her, a smile on his face and two cups of coffee and a pastry bag in his hands.

"Here you go," he says, holding one hand out to her.

She carefully plucks the pastry bag from between his fingers, tucking it between her own, before grabbing the coffee cup and bringing it to her mouth for a sip.

It's become the most welcome part of her mornings, the warmth of the cup against her palm, the heat flooding her mouth, the undertones of sweet in her—

 _Not_ her coffee.

She pulls the cup from her mouth, forcing back the mouthful of coffee before turning to him and thrusting the cup in his direction.

"What is _this_?" she asks, brows furrowed.

Her steps falter, and she pauses on the sidewalk, making him stop and turn to face her.

"It's…coffee?" he says, the answer coming out as a question, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in that way he thinks can get him out of anything.

Not this. _Nobody_ messes with Kate Beckett's coffee.

"It's not _my_ coffee," she tells him, thrusting the cup in his direction once again, the hot liquid threatening to spill over the rim.

He finally takes the hint and takes the cup from her hand, holding it in his.

"There is no way that is my usual," she says. "And you _know_ my usual, you have for years, so why are you bringing me… _that_?"

He lifts the cup and stares at it as though he has no idea what's inside, as though he's trying to remember what he did wrong. And then he lowers it again, shrugging one shoulder.

"It's pumpkin spice flavored," he says. "Pretty much every coffee shop is doing it now, celebrating the season and all."

Her eyes drop back to the cup, her mouth twisting and eyes narrowing in disgust. He's holding it tightly, right between him and her, as though he half expects her to take it back now that she knows what it is.

She doesn't. She won't.

She looks back up at him, eyes still narrowed. "I don't care what time of year it is, Castle, if the leaves are green or orange or dead, I want my _regular_ coffee." She reaches forward, pushing the cup of _pumpkin_ coffee against his chest. "Okay?"

He flashes a smile, nodding his head quickly. "Of course, Beckett," he says. "Tomorrow, I will get you your regular, a grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla."

She regards him for a moment before nodding, satisfied, and turning away to resume her walk to the crime scene. He follows behind her, as always, mumbling something about how he thought she'd like it, about how she claimed to love pumpkin pie.

She rolls her eyes, biting back a comment about how pumpkin in _pie_ and pumpkin in _coffee_ are two completely different things.

Just as they get to the yellow police tape, right after she slips under it with practiced motions, she reaches into the pastry bag and pulls out the bearclaw. She takes a bite, lets the sweet, familiar flavors wash across her tongue before she swallows,

"Oh, so they didn't put pumpkin in my bearclaw, too?"

It's sarcastic and maybe a little mean, that much she knows, and realizes even more so when Lanie, Esposito and Ryan all turn from their victim to look at her and Castle.

"Pumpkin?"

"Too?"

She hears Castle sigh, and she shrugs one shoulder, brushing off the comment and the stares. " _Someone_ messed up my coffee order," she says.

"I didn't mess up," he defends himself. "I thought she would like it."

"You thought Beckett would like it if you messed with her coffee?" asks Ryan. "Remember last time you did that? She boycotted that machine you bought for weeks."

She winces, can practically see Castle opening his mouth with a retort.

"Actually–"

She turns around and shoots him a glare than silences him instantly before turning back to her team, flashing them a smile. Then, she crouches down, her back to Castle, so Lanie can fill her in on the murder victim.

"Yeah, it was my mistake," says Castle. "I've made a mental note that Beckett does _not_ like pumpkin spice flavored coffee."

She looks up from the victim and shrugs one shoulder. " _Coffee_ should not taste like _pumpkin,_ " she defends.

Espo scoffs. "Says the woman who puts vanilla flavoring in her coffee."

Ryan winces and taps Espo's arm. "Maybe we should canvas the area?" he suggests. Espo shrugs, but follows without argument.

She stands back up and smiles at Castle over her shoulder. "See? _They_ know not to mess with my coffee."

"Yeah, I get the point. Grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla for you, always."

She smiles, nodding her head.

"But, uh, since I messed up today and you _really_ don't like the pumpkin one, do you want mine?" he offers.

He holds the cup out to her, the one with his name clearly printed on the side and she stares at it for a moment.

It's definitely not her usual, but his coffee isn't…bad. And it's better than that pumpkin spice _thing._ And definitely better than having no caffeine this morning.

She reaches for the cup, smiling. "Thank you," she says before taking a sip.

 _Oh._ She knows this flavor. This is _her_ coffee.

"Castle?"

He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Why is your coffee a grande skim latte with two pumps of sugar free vanilla?" she asks.

His smile widens. "It was…in case you didn't like the pumpkin spice latte," he answers. "Turns out it was a good idea."

"You know what would have been a better idea?" she says. "Telling me this _before_ I got all mad at you about the pumpkin thing."

He shrugs, still smiling. "Where's the fun in that?"

* * *

 **Huge thank you goes to Mariely fan for reading over this chapter.**


	10. trick or treating

**10\. trick or treating - future**

* * *

She's throwing her breastfeeding pillow aside, situating Ethan so he's sitting on her thigh and leaning forward against her hand when Castle comes bounding down the stairs, a wide smile on his face.

"Is he still awake?" he asks.

She looks down at her son, his chest pressed against her palm, his eyes wide, drifting around the room in search of his dad. And she pats his back, starting the steady rhythm that usually makes him burp.

"Yeah," she answers, even though Castle is circling the end of the couch, finding the answer for himself.

He smiles, that happy, loving smile that always spreads across his face at the sight of their little boy. "Good," he says. "That means we can put on his costume now."

"His _costume_?"

Castle looks up at her, smile still wide, and nods, pulling a small suit from behind his back and holding it out for her to see.

It's furry with a zipper down the front and hood, which is pinched between Castle's fingers. It has two small, round ears, two black dots for eyes and a puffed out part for the nose.

"A bear?" she asks.

He nods, excitement obvious with the movement. "There was a dog one, too, but I thought this one would be cuter on our little guy," he explains. "So, what do you say? I'll put it on him as soon as he burps."

As if on cue, Ethan burps, catching himself off guard and throwing himself back. She catches him, splaying her palm across his tiny back.

"Fine."

Castle's smile grows, stretching impossibly wide across his cheeks. "And then we can go trick or treating."

That has her doing a double take, eyes darting between her husband and their son, now sitting comfortably between her hands, fighting to find his voice with gurgles and coos.

Those sounds could usually make her agree to anything, make her heart flutter and common sense fly out the window.

They will _not_ make her agree to let him bring their son trick or treating.

" _Castle._ "

He knows that tone. It's her warning tone, the one that could make him do just about anything for her, back when she was pregnant. Since Ethan was born, however, it's become slightly less useful.

"What?" he asks. "All kids should go trick or treating."

She rolls her eyes. "He's _three months old,_ babe," she reminds him. "He can't even eat candy."

" _I know_ ," says Castle. "That's why I would eat it for him."

She lets out a laugh. "So that's what this is?" she asks. "An attempt to get free candy?"

"It's free _candy,_ Beckett."

It's a lame explanation, horrible reasoning. He has to know that won't win her over.

"Plus, imagine how cute he'll be dressed as a little bear," he adds.

And, okay, that might. Motherhood has made her soft. Castle knows that better than anyone.

He's not supposed to be using it against her, though.

She looks down at Ethan again, shifts him until he's facing her, her thumbs pressed gently against the base of his skull, his blue eyes wide and locked on her face.

Those eyes are just like his father's. Those are the eyes that can make her do anything.

But not this.

"You can put him in the costume, Castle," she says. "But he is _not_ going trick or treating."

"But–"

"We can go down to the store and buy candy for ourselves tomorrow," she continues. "Because free candy or not, Ethan is too young to go trick or treating and you have to accept that."

He pushes his lip out in a pout, like a little boy, and makes her roll her eyes again. Makes her look away because her cute, sweet, manchild of a husband can get her to do crazy things when she's not careful.

But he doesn't ask again. Instead, he swoops in and gently plucks Ethan from between her hands. He lays their baby down on the couch cushion next to her, and starts pulling apart the snaps of his outfit with practiced fingers.

She watches, leaning over Castle to smile at her baby boy, to coo at him and keep him happy while Castle strips him of his socks, dark blue pants and baby blue onesie.

And then he slides on the bear costume, careful to avoid hurting Ethan with the zippers. She watches as he slips each of their son's tiny feet into the outfit, as he pulls the fabric over Ethan's small arms.

Castle zips up the front and pulls the hood onto their baby boy's head, adjusting it so it doesn't cover his eyes before handing him back to her.

She sits him down on her legs so he's facing her again, his eyes wide, his hands flailing around in confusion. There are paw prints on the hands and feet, she realizes now.

And her baby is adorable. Perfect,

She smiles at him. "You look precious," she coos.

"See?" says Castle. "Isn't he adorable?"

She turns to face him, still smiling. "He's always adorable, babe."

"I know," he says. "But he's especially adorable dressed in a bear costume, right?"

She looks back at her baby. He's relaxed now, his arms falling to rest over her hands and his lips parting around gurgles that go too perfectly with the outfit.

"Yes, Castle," she agrees. "He really is adorable in his outfit."

Castle's smile widens into that one he gets when he wants something, and she knows what he's going to ask before he can get a word out. She lets him ask anyway.

"We could show him off to the neighbors," he says. "Maybe get a little candy while we're at it."

She rolls her eyes. "I told you. You are not bringing him trick or treating."

He sighs, shoulders sinking dramatically. " _Fine,_ " he relents. "Can we at least show him off to the kids who come here, though?"

Her gaze darts back to Ethan. "As long as nobody touches him. Cold and flu season is starting and I don't want him getting sick."

Castle stands, his smile still wide. His hand curling around her shoulder. He leans down and presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Of course, Mama Bear."

It's stupid, really, but with her eyes still locked on her baby bear, she can't help the smile that stretches across her face.

* * *

 **A huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this.**


	11. haunted house

**11\. haunted house - season 5 (after Murder, He Wrote, before Probable Cause)**

* * *

"Seriously, Castle?"

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it, and nods excitedly.

She rolls her eyes. "The thing is made for kids," she argues, flicking her eyes towards the haunted house and the line of teens, preteens and parents waiting to enter.

"So?" he asks. "It will still be fun."

She crosses her arms over her chest, her brows furrowing in skepticism.

"Okay, so maybe not _fun_ ," he relents. "But you can make fun of it afterwards, if you want." He smiles, and then his eyes go wide. "Unless…Beckett, are you _scared_ of the haunted house?"

She scoffs. "I chase killers for a living. Just last week, I watched a dying man stumble into your pool and die," she reminds him. "There is no way I'm scared of skeletons dropping at odd times or random people in stupid costumes reaching out to touch me when I can't see them."

"Hey, you have to admit that it at least makes you jump," he says.

"It might catch me off guard." She shrugs. "But it doesn't _scare_ me."

He eyes her before shaking his head. "No, I think I'm right. Big, bad detective Beckett is scared of the haunted house," he says, a grin spreading across his face.

And she _knows_ he's baiting her. He knows her well enough to know how to get her to do something, how to make her agree to that stupid haunted house.

He knows she's going to prove him wrong, and she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction.

But she does, reaching forward to curl her hand around his wrist and drag him towards the line waiting to enter the haunted house.

Her hand drops from his arm, falling to her side, and he catches her fingers, smiling down at her.

"What?" she asks,

He shrugs. "We can act like a couple here," he answers. "I like it."

It might be stupid, laced with juvenile giddiness, but it draws a smile to her face as she steps forward in line, tugging him with her.

They make small talk until they reach the front, where an under-enthusiastic teenager in a grim reaper costume tells them that they should be scared of what's beyond the door.

The way he says it makes her doubt that there's anything that will do so much as make her uneasy.

And yet Castle grins, eyes alight with enthusiasm. He thanks the boy at the door as he hands over a five dollar bill and then drags her past the large double doors.

It's not a surprise that the first room is dark, the lights dim, the windows on the doors behind them blacked out. A bunch of the walls are covered in black garbage bags and fake spiderwebs are taped to them.

She rolls her eyes.

"This was supposed to scare me?" she asks.

Castle bumps his shoulder against hers. "We just got in, Kate. I'm sure it will get better," he says,

She doubts that, too.

But she follows him through the first room, ducking under a web of threads hanging in the doorway. This room is much darker, a makeshift hallway that's almost pitch black.

She's about to comment on how things are not getting any better when Castle jumps next to her, letting out a squeak.

"What?" she asks.

"Something _touched_ me," he whines.

" _Touched_ you?'

"Yeah," he answers. She can hear the rustling of fabric, can imagine that he's rubbing his arm on his jacket like a child trying to rub off cooties. "Like, grabbed my arm."

Thanking the darkness for hiding her, she rolls her eyes again. "It was probably just some teenager hired to scare people who touch the walls," she tells him. "Nothing to be _scared_ of."

"I wasn't _scared,_ " he says.

She laughs. "The way you squeaked made you sound scared."

He shrugs, his arm rising and falling where it's pressed against hers. "It just caught me off guard," he says. "And _somebody_ told me that is not the same as being scared."

"It isn't," she confirms.

And then there's a creak, the sound loud and echoing through the house as a door opens in front of them. It leads back outside, to a path between a row of trees. Even from inside, she can hear the loud, fake rustling sounds, the fake hums of ghosts that are probably playing from a CD.

"Maybe now it will actually get scary," she mumbles.

Castle frowns, the light from outside allowing her to see his face again. "It wasn't that bad."

She doesn't bother arguing with him. He knows it was _bad,_ even if he won't admit it.

He leads her outside, his hand still locked in hers as she steps down, out of the pitifully decorated house. And then she's at his side, her arm pressed against hers again.

The woods are slightly better. She imagines they would probably be scary to someone younger, much younger. Dark figures in black cloaks dart between the trees, fake bats falling from branches, a noise she imagines is supposed to sound like a bat echoing for a few seconds.

Castle presses himself against her, his lips brushing against the crown of her head.

"You were right," he whispers. "This is pretty lame."

She smiles, a retort curling around the tip of her tongue when she's caught off by the the whir of a motor, loud and _real_ and it takes all of five seconds before Castle is _running_.

Her steps falter. He runs away, and then a man in a torn suit and a mask runs past her, steps clumsy, a chainsaw held over his head.

 _Oh._

She smothers her laugh behind her hand as she takes off, jogging after them until she reaches the end of the trail.

Castle is hunched over, his hands on his thighs, his breathing heavy. The guy with the chainsaw has removed his mask, set his chainsaw aside and is laughing his head off, mumbling something that sounds like _dude, you're old._

She can't help but laugh, too, making Castle look up at her, glaring.

"It's not…funny," he pants, standing up straight again.

"No, no, Castle," she breathes. "You were right. This was more fun than I expected."

He glares again, but reaches out to her, wraps his arm around her waist, and leads her away only a few seconds later.

* * *

 **A huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	12. ghost

**12\. ghost - season 4 (after Demons)**

* * *

Her phone ringing at ungodly hours is something she's more than used to, something that has dragged her out of bed on more than one occasion.

But her phone ringing at an ungodly hour with _Castle's_ face appearing as the caller ID is something she's not used to.

And she would never admit it, but after everything that's happened, everything they've been through, it has her blood running cold, panic making her heart stutter. It has her fumbling for the device, clumsily hitting the button to answer the call and pressing it against her cheek.

She fights to keep her voice steady when she speaks. "Beckett."

"Oh, thank God, Beckett," he breathes on the other end. "I need your help."

Her heart skips another beat, and she presses the phone harder against her face, eyes sliding shut. She sucks in a deep breath, hoping the receiver doesn't catch it.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I think my building is haunted," he answers, voice lilted but low, like he's trying to hide from someone.

And her eyes snap open, her grip on the phone loosening.

" _Castle_."

It's her angry voice. He knows that voice. She _knows_ he knows that voice, that he has for years, that he has since day one.

"What?"

Her mouth snaps shut, biting the response off the tip of her tongue,

 _I was worried about you._

"It's two in the morning," she says instead, "and you called me because you think your building is _haunted_?"

She can practically picture his shrug and the slight upturn of his lips. "Yeah," he answers. "You're the scariest person I know. I figured if anyone could scare the ghosts away, it's you."

Swallows back a sigh, letting herself sink back against the pillows.

"I'm not that scary, Castle," she says.

"Hey, you've never been on the receiving end of your death glares, or your ear tugging," he counters. "Or your interrogation room," he adds, like it's an afterthought. "You have no idea how scary you can be."

She rolls her eyes, drawing her legs up in front of her and letting herself fall onto her side, the phone trapped between her pillow and her cheek.

"I only tugged your ear once," she says. "And the glares are more than warranted."

He gasps, loud and over dramatic. "What did I ever do to warrant metaphoric daggers being shot at me?" he asks.

She laughs, can't help it. "You called me at two in the morning because you think your building is haunted," she reminds him.

"Hey, I really am worried about that," he says. "There could be a ghost watching me _right now,_ Kate. There could be one watching you. Tell me that isn't a little bit worrying?"

She bites at her lip.

It isn't. The idea of a fictional, dead person watching her on the phone with him doesn't scare her in the slightest. Mainly because she knows it's not a real possibility.

And because she feels like she's being watched all the time, anyway. Because she's felt like she was being watched since she was shot.

But those are things he doesn't need to know. Those are things she doesn't want him to know.

So she sighs, loud and forced, letting defeat seep into the sound. "Fine, Castle," she says, "why do you think your building is haunted?"

He sucks in a breath audibly, and she knows he's about to go on with a story, with a theory.

As much as she wants him to believe otherwise, she doesn't completely hate it.

He goes on about so much. About how his building is old and someone has definitely died here at some point. About how it's very likely somebody was murdered at some point. About how said fictitious murder victim probably had some unfinished business.

He spins a story, a tale of lovers and evil and family drama that her sleep-deprived mind can't keep up with so early in the morning. But she nods along, humming for him to continue even when she doesn't really want him to, until he ends the story with a quiet _the end._

"So?" he says. "What do you think?"

She sighs. "I think you have no evidence to support your claim that your building is haunted, Castle," she answers. "Everything you just said is completely circumstantial."

"But the noise—"

"Could have been anything," she interrupts. "You live in New York City. It was probably something from outside. And if not, did you make sure your mother came home alone tonight?"

He sucks in a breath, and she can picture his face scrunching up in disgust, the corners of his eyes crinkling with it.

"Ew," he says. "I…no, Beckett. Just no."

She laughs, shrugs one shoulder even though he can't see her. "I'm just saying, Castle. It's a possibility."

He's probably still wincing. "Yeah, well, I'm not going to tell you any more of my evidence if you're going to bring my mother's sex life into this."

He says it like it's a threat, like he thinks she'd be saddened by this.

"Yeah, well, it's almost three. I could use some sleep," she says, feigning indifference.

It's stupid, really, that the illogical part of her wishes they could stay on the phone.

"Oh, right. Yeah, okay," he says. "I guess I should let you get some sleep, and I should probably sleep, too, since we have work tomorrow."

She nods against her pillow. "Goodnight, Castle," she breathes.

"Goodnight," he echoes. "See you tomorrow."

She smiles. "Yeah. Oh, and, uh, Castle?"

"Yeah?"

It's stupid and giddy and completely born from the part of her that's in love with him, the part of her that can't stand the idea of not having him, the part of her that likes to throw logic out the window.

"If you want, next time I come over, I'll check and make sure there's no ghosts in your loft."

He gasps. "You would do that?"

Definitely stupid. "Yeah."

"That's so sweet," he says. "Thank you, Kate. I lo– I'll see you tomorrow."

And then she hangs up the call and her head hits the pillow, something swirling in her gut, swelling in her chest, stuck, as always.

 _I love you, too._

* * *

 **A huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	13. pumpkin picking

**13\. pumpkin picking - future**

* * *

"Did you ever do this as a child?"

He turns to her, reaching out to wrap an arm around her waist to draw her against his side.

"No," he answers. "Mother was busy a lot and we didn't have much money for a while. And when we did, we didn't have time. And the rare years when we had both, well, this isn't really Mother's scene."

She nods, her head falling to rest against his shoulder.

"What about you?" he asks.

She smiles, eyes slowly falling shut and sliding open again. "Once," she breathes. "My mom wanted us to have more family traditions, once she realized I was much more into Halloween than Thanksgiving. We did this that year, never went back the next year."

He laughs, his breath rushing over the top of her head. "Did she do that often?"

Her smile widens. "Yeah," she answers. "She was the kind of mom who always wanted a ton of traditions, and we definitely had some, but since both my parents were lawyers, we didn't have time for as many as she would have liked."

His arm tightens around her waist, fingers gently squeezing her side. "Is that why you suggested we come here?" he asks.

"Partly," she answers. "And because, I mean, look at them."

He does, his head shifting slightly over hers so they're both facing their kids, their three little ones, looking so tiny in the pumpkin patch.

Ethan is holding Andrew's hand, leading his toddling little brother down the rows of pumpkins. Taylor is running ahead, the knees and cuffs of her jeans stained with soil.

"Yeah, they do look like they're having fun," says Castle. "You want to join them?"

Her smile is her only response.

His arm slips from around her, his hand catching hers as he takes a step forward, towards the pumpkin patch. She lets him tug her along, a chuckle bubbling from her throat when he gently pushes her into the soil before him.

She leads him down the field, between rows of bright orange pumpkins. The soil sinks beneath her feet, turning her boots muddy, but she doesn't care.

It doesn't take long to catch up to the kids, who have stopped now.

Taylor is kneeling on the ground, her hands on the pumpkin, while Ethan is trying to situate his little brother next to it, trying to get an excited Andrew to stay still.

She can't help her smile when she steps up behind them, the afternoon sunlight casting her shadow over their bodies, obscuring their view.

Ethan turns to her, his eyes wide until recognition flashes across his face and he smiles, his grin wide and toothy. "Mommy!" he says. "We finds the pum-kin."

She feigns a gasp, crouching down to his level. "You found a pumpkin?" she repeats.

He nods excitedly, and Andrew squeals. "We finds the pur-fet pum-kin," he says. "Taytay find it."

Her eyes widen, and she turns to her daughter. Taylor's hands are now buried in the dirt and she pulls up clumps, lets it fall from between her fingers and then laughs at how muddy her palms are.

"You found the pumpkin, Taylor?" she asks.

Taylor nods, her face breaking into a smile. "I fine pum-in!" she says.

"And it pur-fet pum-kin, Mommy!" says Ethan.

Andrew squeals again, and Castle's hand falls from where it's resting on her shoulder as he bends down to pick up their baby boy, to bounce Andrew on his hip.

Her smile widens, and she finds herself reaching for Ethan. She adjusts the hat on his head, drawing it lower so it covers his ears, and traces his jaw with her hands.

"I'm sure you guys found the perfect pumpkin, bubby," she says, watching as his smile grows wider. "So, can I see it?"

He jumps excitedly, and Taylor scrambles off the ground, wiping her hands on her filthy jeans as though that will somehow get the mud off her fingers. She smiles, reaching up to fix her own hat, only to make it more crooked.

It's adorable, really.

And then they step to the side, revealing the pumpkin behind her. She's already seen it, of course. She saw it when she was standing over them, staring down at them, but she let's them have their moment.

So she forces her eyes to wide and lets her mouth fall open, her smile still curving the corner of her lips upwards,

"See, Mommy? It pur-fet," says Ethan, and he leans back to pat the pumpkin gently.

Taylor bounces on her toes. "Yeah!" she shouts. "An _big_."

"It's bigger than Dwew," adds Ethan, pointing to where his little brother is still perched on their father's hip.

She can practically see Castle smile as he takes a step forward. Her gaze darts upwards, and she watches as he leans over and gently settles Andrew down on the pumpkin

And her baby boy smiles, flashing her that toothy grin that always makes her smile.

"What do you think?" asks Castle. "Is the pumpkin bigger than Drew, Mommy?"

She hums purposefully, bringing her hand up to her chin. Andrew laughs, slapping his hands and kicking his feet against the pumpkin.

"Yeah," she says eventually. "I think it passes the test."

Ethan's smile goes wide, and Taylor claps her hands together.

"It pur-fet, Mommy?"

She smiles, and presses a kiss to Ethan's head as she stands. "Yeah, buddy, it's _perfect_ ," she tells him, and then she leans over him and snatches Andrew from where he's still sitting on the pumpkin, tickling his belly. "So, how do we get this thing out of here."

Ethan jumps. "We gotsa tell da guy," he says. "Taytay, we gotsa tell da guy."

Castle chuckles. "I'll come with you, okay? We can all go tell the guy together," he suggest. "Mommy and Drew can stay here to guard the pumpkin."

Ethan nods. "Otay, Daddy," he says. "And den yous carry da pum-kin?"

Castle's eyes go wide, and she muffles a laugh behind her hand.

The pumpkin is huge. She's not sure he actually could carry it from here to the car.

And yet she watches as he smiles, looking down at Ethan. "Yeah, and then we'll bring the pumpkin home," he promises.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	14. first frost

**14\. first frost - season 7 (after Once Upon a Time in the West)**

* * *

The bed next to her is empty when she wakes up, the sheets are thrown back and the space is cold. She lets her eyes fall closed in disappointment, swallowing back her sigh.

There go her plans of spending her morning off wrapped in her husband's arms.

She takes a moment before rolling out of bed. She tugs his shirt from last night on over her shoulders and does up a couple buttons to cover her breasts.

She walks through his office first, but it's empty. His computer is open, the document for the latest Nikki Heat book in black and white on the screen. She saves it quickly, even though he probably already did, before padding into the living room.

That's where she finds him, standing at the edge of the room, staring out the window. He's shirtless, wearing just his boxers. His arms are crossed over his chest, making the muscles of his shoulders tense.

She smiles, stepping towards him. She presses her chest against his back, rests her head between his shoulder blades and wraps her arms around his middle.

"You're up early," she whispers.

He turns backwards, as though trying to see her. He uncrosses his arms, and his hand falls to rest over hers. "I was inspired," he says. "Decided to write."

She chuckles. "In the living room without your computer or a notepad?" she breathes.

He hums and squeezes her fingers. "I was writing, and then I decided to make you coffee before you woke up," he explains, "and then I got distracted."

"By the view we see every day?"

He chuckles, and his hand wraps around hers. He tugs gently and pulls her around him until she's leaning against his side instead of his back. Her head falls to rest on his shoulder, her arms snaking around his waist.

"By the first frost," he breathes.

She blinks at that, refocuses her vision on the view in front of her. It's not much, so very slight. The white crystals at the edges of the window, sparkling on the window sill. The slightest of glimmers on the bricks of the buildings across the street, the barely visible sheen of white on the trees lining the sidewalk below.

It's not much, and yet it has a smile spreading across her face. Her arm tightens around him. He draws her closer, his arm draping over her shoulders, pulling her against his chest.

"It's beautiful," she whispers. "I wish we could see more of it."

His arm around her tightens once again. "Yeah," he agrees. "Alexis and I have been out in the Hamptons on frosty days before and it's…beautiful. It's like every blade of grass is sparkling."

Her smile widens. "I know," she breathes. "My parents and I have been out at the cabin before and it was…gorgeous. I used to go out and pluck the blades of grass and the frost would melt on my fingers. I loved it."

He turns towards her at that, and she feels him dusk a light kiss to the top of her head. She reaches out to him, wraps both her arms around him and squeezes him gently.

"I love you," she whispers.

His arm trails down her back, fingers brushing along the line of her spine. "I know," he says. "I love you, too."

"I know," she echoes. "I just…just a few months ago I didn't know if we would ever have this, lazy mornings just wrapped in each other's arms like this, enjoying the small things. Castle, I thought…"

He kisses her head again, and his hand settles over hers. the cool metal of his ring pressing against her knuckles.

"Hey," he breathes. "I'm here. Everything's okay. We got married, Kate. We have a lifetime of lazy mornings spent wrapped in each other's arms ahead of us, okay?"

She nods, nuzzling herself deeper into his embrace, pressing herself harder against his chest. "I know," she says. "I just…little things make me remember how close we were to losing all of this, and make me so thankful we didn't."

"I am, too," he agrees. "I can't imagine not…being here with you, experiencing this with you, never having gotten to marry you."

Slowly, she turns her head and presses a kiss to his chest before pulling away ever so slightly. She slips her hand out from under his and reaches up to frame his jaw in her hand. He turns to face her, the slightest of smiles curling at the corners of his mouth.

Standing on her toes, she presses a soft kiss to his lips.

"Sorry," she breathes into his mouth. "I didn't mean to ruin the mood by bringing it up."

He presses his hand harder against her lower back, pulling her tighter against him. His other hand trails up her spine, around her shoulders to curl around her cheek, his thumb drifting across her lower lip.

"Don't apologize," he whispers. "Never apologize. You didn't ruin our morning at all, Kate.

"I just…I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

He kisses her forehead. "I know," he breathes. "Just…don't apologize. You're allowed to be sentimental. You're allowed to be grateful, Kate."

She smiles, and pushes herself onto her toes to kiss him again. He holds her close, his arms around her back, his body swaying them both back and forth ever so slightly.

Her smile is still wide when she pulls away and presses her cheek against his shoulder.

"How about we get coffee and a blanket and continue our lazy morning?" he suggests, words so quiet she feels the against her ear more than she hears them.

She grins at him. "Or we could move our…lazy morning into the bedroom, have coffee a little later?"

His smile mirrors hers as he leans down to kiss her again, and again, and again until he's sweeping her off her feet, cradling her against his chest and carrying her bridal style to their bedroom.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thanks goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	15. pumpkin pie

**15\. pumpkin pie - future**

* * *

It's a tug on her pant leg that has her dusting the flour off her hands and turning to look over her shoulder.

"Mommy?"

A smile spreads across her face, and she wipes her hands on her apron before crouching down. Reaching out, she curls her hands around Taylor's little shoulders.

"Yeah, Princess?" she says. "Everything okay?"

Taylor nods, smiling back at her. "Daddy, Efan and Dwew are playing twucks," she says, her smile turning to a pout. "But I no wanna play twucks."

"You don't?" she breathes.

Taylor shakes her head. "So I come see what Mommy doin'," she says. "Daddy say you makin' pies for Tu-key day."

She nods. "I am."

"I help?"

Instead of answering, she curls her hands under Taylor's arms and lifts her off the ground to set her down on a clean portion of countertop. And then she reaches into the cupboard above her head and pulls out the apron Castle bought a while back, the one with blue and teal stripes that he said match their daughter's eyes.

They do. And that's why she stuffed it into the cabinet for future use.

"Apwon?" asks Taylor.

She smiles. "Yeah, Daddy got you an apron a while back. You think today is a good day to use it for the first time?"

Taylor grins, flashing her teeth as she nods,

Reaching forward, she ties the apron around her daughter's neck first, and then around her waist. And she turns around, grabs the empty mixing bowl waiting to be used, and hands it to Taylor, who holds it steady between her hands.

"Are you ready to make the pumpkin?" she asks.

"Gamma Jo's pum-kin?" asks Taylor.

The smile that spreads across her face doesn't reach her eyes this time, sorrow seeping into the upturn of her lips as she reaches for her little girl again. She leans over and presses a soft kiss to Taylor's head.

"Yeah," she breathes. "Your Grandma Jo's recipe."

Taylor reaches out at that, the plastic bowl falling to the floor as little arms wrap around Kate's waist, her little girl's head landing on her chest.

"No be sad, Mommy," whispers Taylor. "I makes pies wif you."

She chuckles at that, reaching up to comb her fingers through Taylor's brown curls. "Yeah, Princess, you are," she whispers. "And I'm so happy about that."

Taylor pulls away, her her bobbing, her smile stretching wide. "Me too, Mommy," she says, loud and cheerful as always. "I needs my bowl."

Bending down, she swipes the bowl off the floor and hands it to Taylor, watching as her daughter clutches it even more tightly than she had before.

"What go in bowl?"

Pushing her mostly rolled out pie crust aside, Kate reaches for the can of pumpkin and shows it to Taylor. Her little blue eyes go wide, mouth forming an _O_ as she nods.

"Pum-kin?"

"Yup," she nods. "A whole can of pumpkin. Do you think you can hold the bowl steady while I open the can?"

Taylor nods. "I can, Mommy," she promises. "I no drop it dis time."

"I know you won't, Princess," she tells her daughter, reaching for the can opener and securing it on the edge of the can. Once it's open, she turns it over on top of the bowl, and observes Taylor watching, eyes wide with excitement.

When the can is empty, her little girl bounces slightly on the spot, her smile wide. "What next, Mommy?"

"Next," she begins, "you put the bowl on the counter so _you_ can pour the ingredients into it. Sound good?"

Taylor nods excitedly, and quickly lifts the plastic mixing bowl from her lap and sets it in the empty space next to her. And then, carefully, she shifts so she's kneeling on the counter instead of sitting, and bounces once again.

And so they keep making the pie. She measures and Taylor pours the ingredients into the bowl until they have a mixture of pumpkin, milk, flour, eggs, salt, sugar and spices. She takes the last teaspoon from Taylor's hands and drops it into the sink, hearing the plastic clatter against the metal.

"We almost done?" asks Taylor, her voice soft, almost sad.

She reaches over and gently taps Taylor's leg. "Yeah, Princess, we're almost done."

At that, her little girl pushes her lower lip out in that irresistible pout. "I no wanna be almost done, Mommy," she whispers. "We make more pies?"

She chuckles. "I don't think we need more pies," she says, "but we could start making Christmas cookies. Is that okay with you?"

"Cookies Gramma Jo's, too?"

She squeezes Taylor's leg gently. "Some of them, yeah."

"We make those cookies?" asks Taylor.

Her smile stretches wide across her face and she leans over and smudges a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "Yeah," she breathes. "We can make those ones. As soon as we've finished the pie."

"Den finish pies, Mommy."

That draws a chuckle from her throat, and she pulls away from Taylor to turn back to their work in progress pies. "Okay," she agrees. "We can finish the pies."

So they do.

Taylor slaps her hands over her ears when the electric mixer is on, screaming about how loud it is. And she has a blast flattening the edges of the pie crust with a fork. And she holds up the bowl while Kate scoops the filling into the crust and makes sure the top is flat.

And her daughter is standing by her side, bouncing on her toes, when she slides the pie tin into the oven.

It's while they're making the cookies, dumping cups of flour into a clean mixing bowl that Taylor asks the question that she imagines has been burning in the back of her daughter's mind since they started.

"Mommy? Did you help Gamma Jo make pies and cookies?"

She smiles, the memories flashing into her mind. "Yeah," she breathes. "I did. All the time."

"Were you as good helper as me?" asks Taylor.

She chuckles at that, reaching over to ruffle Taylor's hair. "Not even close, Princess," she answers. "You are the best helper in the whole wide world."

After that, Taylor is grinning the entire time they bake the cookies.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading this over for me.**


	16. turkey

**16\. turkey — season 6 (during The Good, the Bad and the Baby)**

* * *

" _Castle._ "

"What?"

She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest. "We are running on zero sleep and I'm already going to be late for work, can you _please_ just write the note for Alexis?"

His head bobs dumbly and he walks into the kitchen. She watches as he fishes a notepad and a pen from one of the drawers along with a pink calculator she imagines once belonged to Alexis.

He starts scribbling on the page as she heads for the door.

"Kate, wait."

" _What?_ " she practically snaps.

His eyes go wide, and he leans back ever so slightly, as though shocked. But she's running on zero sleep and a cup of coffee that did _nothing_ and on top of that she's facing a rush of emotions and desires that she didn't expect to deal with today, at _all._

So she's _really_ not in the mood for…anything right now.

"For the cooking time, it's thirteen minutes per pound, right?" he asks, his pen still pressed against the paper.

She frowns, her brows furrowing, and steps back towards him. "No," she answers, "It's twenty minutes per pound."

This time, it's his brows that furrow, and he drops the pen onto the countertop. "Twenty minutes per pound?" he asks. "That will make the turkey so dry."

"And thirteen minutes per pound will give us salmonella poisoning," she counters. "Seriously, Castle, there's no way it's supposed to be thirteen minutes per pound."

He eyes her for a minute. "And you know that with absolute certainty how?" he asks.

The memories flash into her mind unwelcomed, her hands buried in stuffing, her mother asking her to do the math as though it was difficult.

Yeah, she's not in the mood for memories, either.

"I used to help my family make Thanksgiving dinner," she answers simply. "It was always twenty minutes per pound."

He shrugs one shoulder. "Well, I've been making Thanksgiving dinner for Alexis for years and I've always done it at thirteen minutes per pound," he counters.

She rolls her eyes. "Did either one of you ever get a stomach ache after Thanksgiving."

He glares. " _Yes,_ but just me and that's because I eat _way_ too much dessert," he answers, like that somehow proves his point.

It doesn't. All it does is draw a laugh from her throat because as tired as she is, and as much as she needs to leave and as much as she's not in the mood for anything, she can definitely picture that.

Castle, pigging out on sugar and sweets and pies. That's definitely something she can envision.

It's something she kinda wants to see. Every year. For the rest of their lives.

She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, along with any lingering ones of him with a baby, of him with _their_ baby, of wanting them to have a baby.

Yeah, those thoughts definitely aren't allowed, either.

"Well, you guys got lucky," she says. "Because thirteen minutes per pound is _definitely_ not enough."

"Yeah, well, twenty minutes per pound is definitely _too_ much."

She rolls her eyes. "What are you going to do, Castle, write down some number in between?" she asks.

His face lights up. "Why not? Compromise, Beckett, that's what marriage is about."

" _Castle._ "

"What?"

With a jerk of her head, she motions to him. "Look it up," she says. "Do _research_. And find an answer soon because I'm going to be late for work."

He smiles again, and reaches into his back pocket to fish out his phone. She watches while he types in his passcode and slides his thumb across the screen.

"Okay," he says. "But I'm telling you, it will say to cook the turkey thirteen minutes per pound at three hundred and fifty degrees."

"Three hundred and fifty?"

The question is out of her mouth before her sleep deprived brain can catch up, before she puts two and two together and realizes, with a chuckle, what this means.

"Yeah," he answers. "Why are you laughing?"

She shakes her head, more at herself than at him, and walks towards him until she's standing right in front of him. Reaching up, she adjusts the collar of his shirt.

"You were right," she admits. "You cook a turkey for thirteen minutes per pound at three hundred and fifty degrees,"

His brows furrow, and she hears his phone drop to the counter as his hands fall to frame her hips. "Uh, is the lack of sleep getting to you, Kate?" he breathes. "Because I swear you just said I was right without concrete evidence to prove that fact."

She rolls her eyes, her hands falling to his shoulders. "But I was right, too," she says. "Because you cook a turkey for twenty minutes per pound at three hundred and twenty-five degrees."

It takes him a second, his brain probably suffering from the lack of sleep almost as much as hers is, but his eyes widen when it dawns on him.

And then he's laughing, too.

"We really don't work well after a night of being woken up every hour on the hour," she tells him, squeezing his shoulder before turning away.

He catches her hand, though, and draws her back. "You'll get somewhat used to it, you know," he whispers. "When we have one of our own."

She smiles, can't manage much else when any possible response is swirling in her mind along with thousands of other thoughts, along with panic and joy and a completely stupid desire to jump his bones.

"Okay?" he asks.

She nods. "Yeah, Castle. Just write the note for Alexis and we have to get going."

He smiles back at her, nodding his head as he turns away, his hand falling from her grasp. He scribbles down the note, asking Alexis to put the turkey in the oven for them before turning back to her and catching up to her at the door.

"So, since you're already late, what do you say we stop off and get the biggest cup of coffee we can?" he asks.

"That would be…perfect," she breathes in response.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading this over. Also, from here on out, expect daily updates.**


	17. black cat

**17\. black cat - future**

* * *

She finishes changing Taylor's diaper and sweeps her off the changing table and into her arms, feeling her daughter's legs part to accommodate her belly.

"You ready for Halloween, Tay?" she whispers.

Taylor squirms, letting out a squeal at the familiar word as she nods her head as though she knows what it all means and what her plans for tonight are.

Still, Kate laughs, and smudges a kiss against Taylor's head. "Okay," she breathes. "Then you gotta go see Daddy. He has your costume."

"Dada?"

She can't keep her smile from widening, can't help but press another kiss to her baby girl's curls. "Yeah, baby," she breathes. "You have to go see Daddy."

Taylor squirms at that, and Kate's forced to set her down to avoid any kicks against her belly. She reaches instead for Taylor's little hand, and leads her to the stairs before picking her up again, and carrying her downstairs.

As soon as her feet hit the floor again, Taylor takes off running on wobbly legs into the master bedroom, to where her father is leaning against a doorframe.

"Ethan's all ready," he says. "Now we just have to get this one into her costume."

She smiles, and watches as her husband leans down and sweeps Taylor off the floor and onto his shoulders. Her giggles echo through the apartment as Ethan steps out from behind the wall.

His costume has her smothering a laugh behind her hand.

"What are you, buddy?" she asks.

He bounces on his toes, and reaches up over to adjust the plastic gun perched on his hip. "I 'tective," he answers, smiling wide. "Like you, Mommy!"

"Oh yeah?" she asks. Carefully, one hand finding the swell of her stomach, she crouches down and reaches out to fix Ethan's collar. "Daddy didn't make you do this, did he?"

"Huh?"

She chuckles, and leans forward the best she can to press a messy kiss to his head. "Never mind, buddy. You make a really cute detective."

"I cat' all da bad guys," he says.

"I bet you do." She smiles, blinking back the tears that threaten to well in her eyes.

Stupid pregnancy hormones.

"Mommy cwy?"

Dammit.

She wipes at her eyes, letting out a laugh. "Yeah," she breathes. "You remember how the baby makes me cry sometimes, even when I'm really, really happy."

Ethan smiles wide and reaches out to rest one small hand on the curve of her stomach. "Baby," he says. "Baby make Mommy cwy?"

She nods. "That's right, my little detective, that's the baby that makes me cry," she says. "But it;s okay. Mommy loves the baby anyway. Do you love the baby, too?"

He nods, still smiling. "I big brudder," he says. "I gotta love baby."

And she can't help it. She reaches forward, wraps her arms around his middle and draws her little boy into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to his temple.

That's when Castle comes out of the bedroom, carrying Taylor in his arms. She looks up to see him smiling down at her, their little girl balanced on his hip.

"And what is Taylor being for Halloween?" she asks, even though she can see the answer.

Castle bounces their daughter on his hip, drawing her attention back to him. She smiles, wide and toothy.

"What does a cat say, Tay?" he asks.

She grins. "Meow!"

Castle smiles back at her and tickles her stomach, peppering kisses to the top of her head. She squirms against him, giggling until he sets her down on the ground.

Taylor toddles over to her, arms held out in front of her tiny body.

"Are you a cat?" she asks her daughter.

Taylor answers her with a smile. "Meow!"

"Yes," she says, smiling. "You are a very cute cat."

And she is. The epitome of adorable right now, her little girl is dressed all in black. She's wearing black leggings and a long sleeved shirt with fur around her wrists. There's a tutu around her waist and a furry black tail stuck to the back of her shirt, curled at the end. Her hair is pulled up in two tiny pigtails, almost hidden by the furry black cat ears sitting atop her head.

"Mommy cwy 'gain?"

Castle laughs as Ethan reaches forward and rests his hand on her belly once again.

"Baby make Mommy cwy again?" he asks.

She smiles, wipes at her eyes once more. "Yes," she whispers. "All my babies are making me cry tonight."

Castle walks over to her, and he holds his hand out to her. She takes it and lets him help her to her feet. His hand comes up to frame her hip, the other resting on her belly.

"Hormones?" he whispers for just her to hear.

She nods slowly, her hand settling over his.

"You gonna be okay while we're gone?" he asks.

She rolls her eyes at that and squeezes his hand gently. "They're tears, Castle, not contractions," she says. "I'll be fine, just a little overly emotional for the occasion."

"And you'll call if you _do_ have contractions?" he asks.

She smiles. "Of course," she promises. "There's no way I'm doing this labor and delivery thing, alone, babe. You're half responsible for the baby, you get to risk a broken hand while I'm in labor."

He leans over, presses a soft, sweet kiss to the side of her head. "You know there's no place I'd rather be," he says. "So, you'll call."

She nods once. "Yes."

"Even if you think it's just braxton hicks?"

That has her rolling her eyes, squeezing his hand gently. "I'm not going to cut our children's Halloween short because of braxton hicks contractions, babe," she says.

"But–"

"I've done this twice before, Castle," she reminds him, motioning to where Ethan is having a blast flashing his plastic badge at Taylor. "You don't have to worry so much."

His shoulders sag in defeat. "Okay," he breathes.

She stands on her toes and presses a quick kiss to his lips. "Now, you go bring our detective and our kitten trick or treating so they can get a bunch of candy for you, me and baby to snack on tonight," she tells him.

He smiles wide and kisses her once more before leaning down and scooping Taylor into his arms. It draws Ethan's attention, too,

"Can you guys say goodbye to Mommy before we go trick or treating?" he asks the kids.

Ethan runs to her, squeezes her legs tightly. "Bye bye, Mommy," he says. "We sees you later."

She reaches down and squeezes his shoulder gently. "Yeah, buddy, I'll see you soon," she promises. "Now you, Daddy and Taylor are going to go get a bunch of candy, okay?"

He nods against her legs before pulling away.

She looks back up to see Castle bounce Taylor ever so slightly. "Can you say bye to Mommy, Tay?"

Taylor looks up at her, smiling wide. "Meow!"

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading this over.**


	18. skeleton

**18\. skeleton - season 3**

* * *

"I'll be right back," she tells Lanie, waiting for her friend's nod before turning around and escaping the crowd of people in costumes.

She's still in her work clothes, completely out of place, because she had to leave late when a piece of evidence went missing.

Castle only dwelled on her lack of costume for a second, though, and she can still see the smile that had spread across his face when he whispered almost reverently, _you came._

She did. Part of her, the part of her she tries to silence on a daily basis, knows that she doesn't want to be anywhere else.

Finally reaching the edge of the crowd, she slips into the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Her palm presses flat against the door and she shoves it up, stepping inside to come face to face with–

The scream escapes her before her mind can catch up, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. Her fingers are shaking, her breaths coming quick, her heart racing.

It takes her all of a second to realize how stupid she must look.

Her hand falls, and she rolls her eyes at herself even as she can hear footsteps in the hall. Heavy and quick and she knows it's _him,_ Castle, probably coming to laugh at her.

Because she, badass detective Beckett, just screamed in the face of a plastic skull.

But not any plastic skull.

She turns on her heel, marching out of the bathroom before he can reach her, and finds him standing in the hallway.

It's unexpected and makes something inside her flutter, the way his brows are furrowed and how his eyes flash with worry. That is, until he sees the look on her face. Then, he's stepping back, his face scrunching up as though he's bracing for impact.

Rightfully so.

" _Castle_!"

He forces an innocent smile, his guilt shining in his eyes. "What?" he asks. as though he doesn't already know the answer.

"Care to explain why _that_ skull is in your bathroom?" she says, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head to the side.

His brows furrow, even as recognition flashes in his eyes.

He knows what he did. He always knows.

"What skull?"

"The skull from our crime scene."

His cheeks go pink, just the slightest darkening of his skin and her arms tighten around her torso, her fingernails digging into the skin of her sides hard.

She stayed at work late looking for it, and then filling out the paperwork because she _lost_ evidence for an ongoing investigation.

And all this time, it was sitting in Castle's bathroom.

"Come on," she says.

She reaches for his arm, ignoring his whine as she turns on her heel and drags him back to the bathroom. Her hand wraps around the plastic skull and she thrusts it against his chest, forcing him to take it in his hand.

And then she turns around, again, and drags him down the hall, to the door, and outside the loft.

"Beckett?"

"We're going to the precinct." she informs him. "And you're going to return that skull."

He frowns. "But, what about the party?"

"You have booze out?" she asks, and he nods in response. "And snacks?" Another nod. "They'll be fine. You have to explain to Montgomery why you took a piece of evidence to decorate for your party."

"Is Montgomery even still at the precinct?"

She nods without turning to face him, still dragging him with her as she heads for the elevator. "He had like ten times the paperwork I did about that stupid plastic skull. He's definitely still there."

Castle sighs, and yet he falls silent, letting her lead him to her car. He's quiet for the entirety of the ride to the precinct, humming along to the music as he tries to spin the skull on his finger like one would do with a basketball.

It's only when they're parked that he speaks again.

"You going in like that?"

She looks down at herself, and shrugs one shoulder. Her fingers undo the bow at her neck, and the cape she's wearing falls behind her, and she pops the plastic fangs from her mouth.

"Cheap, DIY costume means it's easy to get out of your costume, Castle," she tells him, before eyes him up and down. His face is covered in elaborate makeup, and his shoulders are wider than usual, a ripped up jacket and shirt stretch across his chest. "You, on the other hand, are going into the precinct like _that_."

He grumbles softly, but doesn't argue. She finishes her badge out of the center console and leads him to the building, ignoring the looks they get from officers and detectives still at the precinct.

Castle's been here for years. They should expect it by now.

She ends up shoving him into Montgomery's office, wishing him luck as she closes the door behind him. And then she watches through the open blinds as he hands over the plastic skull and starts to explain.

He comes out just a few minutes later, smiling wide.

"What?" she asks. "He wasn't mad?"

Castle shrugs. "A bit, I guess, but right now I think he's just glad that I got him out of all that paperwork," he answers, "I did get more paperwork for you, though."

She frowns, her brows furrowing as she glances over his shoulder to find Montgomery standing there and smiling apologetically.

"Sorry, Beckett," he says. "But I'm going to need you to reprocess this skull for evidence."

He hands it over, and the plastic weighs heavy in her hand as she looks back at Castle. He's still grinning at her.

"I'll be right back," he promises.

She frowns, reaching for his arm before he can go. "Hey! You got me into this, you're stuck here until I'm done," she tells him, her gaze darting to the skull.

He smiles, and rests his hand over hers before nodding. "I know," he says. "I said I'll be right _back_."

She's still frowning, feeling the crease of her brow, but she lets him go before walking over to her desk to do the paperwork as quickly as she possibly can.

He returns when she's on the second form, standing at the edge of her desk and smiling down at her. Her eyes dart from his face down, to where he's holding a chocolate bar out for her.

Her favorite chocolate bar.

"Happy Halloween?" he offers.

She smiles, feeling it crinkle at the corners of her eyes as she reaches for the chocolate bar.

"Happy Halloween, Castle," she echoes.

And there's that stupid part of her brain again, echoing her thoughts from earlier, too loud and ever-present for her to ignore.

Even now, there's really no place she'd rather be.

But she pushes that thought away, silencing it by staring at the plastic skull and the paperwork in front of her, his presence making her smile despite herself.

* * *

 **A huge thank you goes to Marielyfan, as always.**


	19. sweaters and bonfires

**19\. sweaters and bonfires - future (a few weeks after chapter 17)**

* * *

She finishes buttoning up the knit sweater her Aunt Theresa made for Andrew before wrapping her hands around his tiny torso and drawing him against her chest.

His head sinks back against her fingers, he's still so small, so young, so very tiny, nestled against her chest, already fast asleep after his latest feeding. She dusts a kiss to the top of his head and breathes in the lingering scent of her newborn baby.

And that's when Castle walks in, Taylor propped up on his hip.

"He good?" he asks.

She smiles, kisses her little baby once again and nods her head slowly. "He's perfect," she whispers, looking up to see him smiling at her knowingly.

She was like this with all their babies, clingy and emotional and overly sappy and she knows he loves it, knows he loves seeing her this way.

It was one of the first things he mentioned when she told him she was pregnant with Andrew.

"Well, Ethan and Taylor are ready," he tells her, "and Alexis and Luke are waiting downstairs, if you guys are ready."

She nods. "Just let me…" Reaching forward, she grabs the heavy wool blanket from the end of their bed, the one they never use, and Castle eyes her curiously, making her cheeks turn pink. "I like having him…skin to skin," she admits, her one palm flattening over her baby's back. "This is to keep us warm."

Castle nods, his smile widening slightly, and waits for her to stand before turning away and leading her downstairs. Ethan is standing with Alexis and Luke now, pressing his hand against his sister's slightly swollen stomach.

"Baby move yet?" he asks.

Alexis chuckles, smiling down at him. "Just enough for me to feel, but not you or Tay or even Daddy or _Luke,_ " she answers.

Ethan's shoulders sag in disappointment. "Dwew moved all da time," he tells Alexis. "But now he out and he jus' cwies all da time."

"Hey," Kate interrupts, making her sun jump and turn to face her. "Drew will get more fun over time, Ethan, just like Taylor did. You just have to let him grow up a bit."

Ethan nods slowly, even though she doubts he remembers anything about Taylor being a baby as young and small as Andrew is now.

"Can Dwew be outside for the fiwe?" he asks softly.

She smiles. "Of course he can," she promises. "He's all ready to go outside. We're just waiting for you guys."

Ethan sighs at that. "We waiting for _you_ , Mommy."

It draws a laugh from her throat, Castle, Alexis and Luke joining her. She watches as Luke reaches down and rests a hand on Ethan's shoulder, leaning down to ask her little boy to lead them all outside.

He'll make a great father, as much as Castle likes to complain about how Luke got Alexis pregnant before they got married.

She follows her family outside, to the firepit sitting in the backyard, already surrounded by chairs that the boys set up earlier. Alexis drops into one, her hand settling on the slight swell over her belly, and Kate settles into another, making sure Andrew is comfortable against her chest before draping the blanket over them both.

Luke offers to start the fire, since he's the only adult who's not carrying a child, and she can't help but notice the glint of love in Alexis' eyes.

It reminds her so much—too much—of pictures of her and Castle.

Castle sits down in the chair to her right, Taylor nestled against his chest. Ethan takes the seat to her left, claiming to be the _big boy_ of the family and have his own chair. Luke takes the seat next to Alexis' his arm wrapping around her shoulders.

And the flames flicker in the firepit, bright and dancing in the November wind.

It only takes a few minutes for Ethan to want marshmallows, and Castle surprises them all by pulling a _huge_ bag of them out from under his chair. Carefully, he stands, setting Taylor down in the chair, and draws a stick from under his chair, too.

He makes one for Ethan first, and then one for Taylor and finally for the adults. And then he makes a second one for Alexis, telling her it's for the baby, and a second one for Kate, claiming Andrew will have to get his serving of marshmallow through breast milk.

It makes her laugh, especially when Ethan winces in disgust.

They tell stories, too. Alexis and Luke tell the story of how they found out they're having a baby, and Castle tries to top them by telling an over-dramatic version of the day Andrew was born. And then Ethan tops them both by telling his favorite bedtime story, the one about the female knight who slays the dragons that everyone knows is about Kate.

And yet it has her smiling, and she watches as Castle rocks a smiling Taylor as the story lulls their baby girl too sleep.

Ethan falls asleep within the next hour, leaning against the armrest of his chair, his arm pressed against his face. That's when Alexis volunteers to bring the kids back to the house, promising that the baby makes her tired and she was going to head to bed, anyway. Luke follows, carefully scooping Ethan out of his chair while Alexis takes Taylor from Castle.

Once they're alone, he turns to her, smiling sweetly. "Do you want to turn in, too?"

She looks down at Andrew, who's still sleeping against her chest. Her lips dust against his head, and she finds his little feet under the blanket to make sure he's not cold.

It's probably not a good idea. With two young kids and a newborn, they're both lacking sleep that they could be catching up on.

But the flickering of the flames is beautiful, and the quiet, with the kids gone to bed, almost brings her back to before they had kids, except now she has the warmth of a sleeping baby on her chest.

"I'm good," she whispers. "You?"

His smile widens. "Same."

He ends up moving his chair so it's closer to hers, and she shifts in her seat so that she's leaning against the armrest, her head on his shoulder, her eyes locked on the fire.

They stay outside until Andrew needs to be fed again, and after burping the baby, the flames having died down, he helps her up from her seat and leads her to the house, his arm draped over her shoulders.

She falls asleep still in her clothes, her head pressed against his chest, wrapped in the heavy wool blanket.

* * *

 **Once again, a huge thank you goes to Marielyfan for reading over this chapter.**


	20. longer nights

**20\. longer nights - future**

* * *

The fall makes it worse. She's not sure why, but it always has. Ever since she got shot, even since _that_ summer, the fall has brought on more nightmares that any other season.

She thinks it has something to do with the memories of her final weeks at the cabin, of fearing coming home, fearing the city, fearing facing Castle.

Even though she knows everything's okay now, with her husband and their three kids, it still has her on edge, stumbling into the loft, her heart racing, images of today's case, a particularly difficult one, racing in her mind.

She expects to find Castle sitting on the couch, watching TV with their kids before bedtime, but that's not what she finds at all. The kids are nowhere to be found, and Castle is leaning against the kitchen island, a plate of food in one hand and his brows furrowed in worry.

He holds his arms open for her, and she walks right into his embrace, her head falling against his chest.

"Espo called," he whispers. "Told me about the case. I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "I'm just glad they're okay," she mumbles. "That they're safe."

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "They're playing upstairs now," he tells her. "They helped me make dinner and run you a bath. Sound good?"

Part of her wants to go and find her kids, wrap them in her arms and hold them until they fall asleep. But a bath does sound appealing. Very appealing.

"You'll keep the kids up until I'm out?" she asks.

He smiles and kisses her head again. "Of course."

So she agrees to the bath, letting him lead her to the ensuite bathroom. It's dimly lit with candles, the bath having just been drawn. He lingers while she pulls off her clothing, as she sinks into the warm water, feeling herself relax within seconds.

He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead before leaving, resting her dinner on the edge of the tub.

She doesn't stay in the bath long. She can't stay away from her kids for long, not after the case and the day she's had, in the middle of the season that sets her on edge.

She pulls on a pair of pajama pants and a cotton shirt, leaving her hair wet and draped over her shoulders before stepping out of the bedroom and into the living room, which she expects to find empty.

Except it's not empty, not at all.

Her kids are all there, holding their pillows and wearing onesies. Andrew comes running at her, his smile wide, and she leans down to catch him and sweep him off the floor and into her arms. She squeezes him tightly, her nose pressing against the top of his head, and she realizes Castle must have given them a bath.

On top of her kids, though, Castle is in the living room, along with a huge blanket fort. They haven't made one in a while. She's not even sure any of her kids remember the last one.

But this fort is huge, more than big enough for the five of them. The kitchen chairs are in the living room now, and blankets drape between them and the couch, surrounded by cushions and pillows and…how did she not realize their bedspread was missing?

"Mommy!" says Ethan. "We made you a fort."

She smiles and nods her head slowly. "I can see that," she says.

"Daddy say you has bad dreams," pipes up Taylor.

Andrew nods, his head bobbing against hers. "Daddy say s'eep in fowt," he says.

She looks up at Castle, her eyes going wide. "You had the kids build a fort for me?" she breathes.

He shrugs, almost sheepishly, as though he doesn't know how much she loves this. How much she loves him and their family.

"I figured that, since you have tomorrow off and the kids have no school, we could all sleep in the tent tonight," he tells her. "If you want to, that is."

She steps towards him, and presses a hard, quick kiss to his lips, ignoring Ethan's sound of disgust, which Taylor echoes.

"I love you," is her only response, and Castle smiles, wide, bright and happy.

She turns back to the kids, smiling down at them. "So? What are we going to do in the fort?" she asks them.

Taylor bounces on her toes. "We watch movie!"

"Daddy put his laptop in the fort," says Ethan. "He says you get to choose the movie."

She looks over at Castle, again, just to make sure Ethan's telling the truth before turning back to her kids and nodding her head.

"Okay, then, who wants to get in first?"

The movie's credits roll about an hour and a half later, and she closes the laptop's lid and rolls onto her side, her head settling against Castle's chest.

The kids are already asleep. Ethan is curled up in a ball on Castle's other side, and Taylor is curled up next to her. Andrew is snuggled up against his sister, wrapped in his baby blanket, his pillow forgotten.

She smiles, reaching up to trail her fingers down, along Castle's jaw.

"Babe?" she whispers.

He hums, turning to look at her. "Yeah, Kate?"

"Thank you," she whispers, punctuating the sentence with a quick peck to his chest.

"For what?"

Her smile widens, her fingertips trailing down his jaw once again, "For our family," she whispers. "Our kids and our marriage and for always being here and for…all of this, tonight."

His arm tightens around her waist, drawing her against him, and her chin tilts upwards against his chest. He leans down and presses a kiss to her lips, and then another to her forehead, gentle, sweet and loving.

"No, Kate," he whispers, his gaze locked on hers. "Thank _you._ "

And he kisses her one last time, squeezing her gently, before sinking back against his pillow and letting them both drift off to sleep, surrounded by their children.

* * *

 **And that's a wrap, folks. Thank you all so much for sticking with this story to the end. I hope you enjoyed the family I created for Castle and Beckett. And a _huge_ thank you goes to Marielyfan. Elizabeth, I had a ton of fun working on this with you, and owe you so much for the work you did in helping me make this story better.**


End file.
